Batman Origins: Harleen Quinzel
by Dr. Doodle
Summary: Nolanverse. The past of Harleen Quinzel from her point of view, everything about her childhood & what led her back to Gotham. Harleen/Edward Nashton pairing. Pamela Isley & Dr. Crane due to make a lot of appearances!
1. Meet Harleen Quinzel

_**This is NOLANVERSE peeps so please bear in mind this is a REALISTIC interpretation of Harleen Quinzel meaning she only has hints of her original self in there. She's actually intelligent in this and doesn't sleep her way to the top because she doesn't need to. I don't think in a real life situation that Arkham would assign her to The Joker later on if she didn't have the mental capacity to cope with him. To tell the truth, I doubt she'd last long at Arkham Asylum if she were this bubbly bimbo girl & The Joker would definately kill her. Though I love the original Harley, if you want to see her then don't read this & get annoyed with me. If you want realism however, you've come to the right place so read away! :]**_

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _Right so I wanted to write this as a stream of conscious narration. It was originally going to be a series of diary entries but I thought it'd be much better with Harley just talking about her life in a conversational type way. She's going to be the little story teller here! :] Something tells me I'm going to find this quite challenging trying to get into the mind of Harley but this is the Nolanised version of Harleen Quinzel after all so it might not be so bad, I guess I can kind of shape her to think whatever. I've set this before The Shadow of the Bat because I wanted to make a past for her; I may be doing this for other characters too. I'm already thinking of a kind of biographical thing for Jonathan Crane and maybe Edward Nashton. The Joker would definitely be an interesting one to delve into but I like how Nolan made his past an enigma so I'm thinking it'd be best if it stayed that way._

_I'M WRITING 3 STORIES AT THE MOMENT, ALL SLIGHTLY DIFFERENT IN WRITING STYLE!!! These being:  
The Shadow of the Bat (currently writing several chapters for it!) _Basic 3rd person storytelling but with points of view expressed subtly :]_  
Batman Origins: Harleen Quinzel (right here before you ta-da!) _Basic 1st person storytelling from Harleen!_  
Rebirth (sequel to The Shadow of the Bat – working on the first chapter as we speak! I'm gonna sort of work backwards but I won't put it up on here until The Shadow of the Bat's finished obviously!)  
So I apologise to anyone reading 'The Shadow of the Bat' for taking so long but I've got 3 projects on the go right now as I can't seem to stay away from writing about Harley but the new chapter is pretty much finished and I'll be making a couple of changes to it!_

**DICLAIMER: **DC comics own everything, I own nothing but the characters I've created myself – which I've really tried to avoid as best I can!

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_"Baby ballerina's hiding somewhere in the corner  
Where the shadow wraps around her and our torches cannot find her  
She will stay there till the morning, crawl behind us as we are yawning  
And she will leave our games to never be the same." **- 'Sugarcane' by Missy Higgins**_

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**Meet Harleen Quinzel**

I think it was Einstein that once said "Only a life lived for others is a life worth living," and I guess I've always stood by that. People say you need to work hard. They say you need to take the time to relax. They say you need to grab at every opportunity. They say life's full disappointments and God knows I've had my fair share of them. It's really quite funny, the contradictions that surround these so called 'theories' of life. But life's a joke right? Something to be enjoyed. Something you can share with somebody - maybe that's the truest theory of them all?

If I had to tell you the whole thing, the ingredients that made me into the person I am today, the gymnast, the psychiatrist and fiancé to a very handsome computer analyst. I'd have to start from the beginning. But how could I possibly begin to tell you?  
I guess I should really introduce myself. My name's Dr. Harleen Quinzel. It's been awkward trying to adjust to that title as even though I've held it for a good few years now, I still call myself Miss. It's a common mistake. I'm known simply as 'Harley' or 'Lee' to my friends, those who I care to call friends anyway, I guess I've never really had many of them. My oldest and dearest friend would have to be and will always be Pamela Isley or as I call her, 'Pammy' or 'Red'. I've known her since we were little and we went to Gotham Elementary together. She's been an emotional crutch for me my whole life, a shoulder to cry on, the only one I've really shared anything with. Come to think of it, there's still things I haven't told her. I always get told that my secrecy is something I have to work on. Of course being a psychiatrist I know all about the effects bottling up emotions can have but so far I've had no problems with it, I mean it's not like I have any deep psychological problems. I should know after working with the criminally insane for so long, I'll get to that later though. As I was saying, I still have my flaws just like everybody else. I mean nobody's perfect, right? I know that the world would be a boring place if that were true.

Of course my past is full of glitches, whose isn't? Hardships are something we all have to deal with and yes, my parents have been the source of most of it. My mother, Mrs. Lillian Grace Quinzel was a highly successful lawyer who strived for me to follow in her footsteps, she never did approve of me choosing to follow in my father's instead. She looked very much like I do now which as you can imagine is still frightening to me whenever I look in the mirror and see my mother staring back at me. I couldn't imagine being one of those lawyer types, even if I did go down that path I think I would've chose criminal justice rather than civil stuff, guess I've always had an unconscious need to have criminals in my life. I've always been a disappointment to my mother and it did bother me at first but it's got to a point where it doesn't any more. My father, Dr. Charles James Quinzel (who if I could compare him to anyone look wise it would definitely be someone like Tom Selleck minus the moustache) was a Professor of Psychology at Gotham University. He was once a great man with a brilliant mind, however his old age and retirement have forced his talents to go unused, inevitably I suppose he feels that his best days are behind him which unfortunately has forced him to form a close relationship with Mr. Jack Daniels.

It's no doubt sad but also quite embarrassing, especially when in the midst of company. An example of this is when I took Edward to their place last Thanksgiving. My father had had too much to drink and started blabbing on about we could never survive in marriage, how raising a family in New York would never work because the cost of living was so high and we'd barely scrape by. He pestered the both of us about our jobs and said we didn't earn enough, he even told me to leave Edward at one point in the night when he was sitting right next to me. My mother ignored it and instead just badgered into Edward's family life. Luckily Edward sucked it all up and didn't take it too personally but as you can tell it obviously wasn't a very thankful Thanksgiving for either of us. However the look on my father's face just before we left to go home made it all worthwhile when we announced our engagement. It's kind of funny how these things work out but I guess all the talk about us never making it together pushed us into proving him wrong; that night we decided we would do just that and, well, there you have it.

I suppose my parents did push me a little too hard to succeed in academia, in the Quinzel household failure was never an option, not for their little Harley doll. I've always told myself that I'd thank them for their persistence one day but I'm still waiting for that day to come.

The pushiness really stretches all the way back to when I was a little girl. I remember one occasion that illustrates this perfectly. I was 5 years old and had just attended my first gymnastics class but I was very upset. I wanted to be a ballerina but my mom wouldn't let me follow that dream. It seems mommy Quinzel had plans for little Harleen. Big plans. My mother didn't want any more children, she couldn't bear the thought of going through the _**joy**_ of childbirth* again. Obviously she felt the need to 'get it right' so to speak the first time around. As for my father, he was just along for the ride, backing her up whenever he needed to. I suppose that's what really led me to follow in his footsteps instead of my mother's, unconsciously it must've been to spite her in a way.

I remember I climbed into the back of my mother's black 4x4 Jeep that she'd just bought from the money she'd made on her latest case. I don't know what it was exactly, of course I was too young to understand. All I remember was when I asked my mother told me that a very bad man had done bad things to a nice lady and had to be put away. As always she took pride in showing how she'd helped with that. At the time I acknowledged that the bad man had done bad things but I still pitied him, when I was little I didn't believe anyone should be locked up but I suppose that changed as I matured. Before we set off home, my mother noticed the look on my face when she fastened my seatbelt for me.

"Ohh, what's wrong sweetie?" My mother said with a pretense of worry.

"I don't like it." I told her, I never elaborated on much as a child but I suppose all kids are like that. If you didn't like something, you didn't need a reason. It was honest. I sulked a little and I noticed her subtly roll her eyes at me. It kind of pisses me off thinking about it now but at the time it didn't really register with me that much.

"What, your gymnastics class?" She looked at me in the eyes in an attempt for me to back down and say no but I replied in the only way I thought right at the time and it's kind of become a habit of mine ever since. A way of me saying yes without me actually having to utter the word, even as a child the word held too much promise for me. The promise of a new pet bunny, _'Yes, we'll get you a nice one,'_ a new bike with tassels attached to the handles with white daisies painted all over it, _'Yes Harley doll, we'll get it at the weekend!' _a new pair of boots _'Yes, of course sweetie'_; all of them were never carried through. The word 'yes' seemed to be the word my parents used to get my hopes up so I rejected using it as often as I could.

"Mmm-hmm!" I replied and she gave me the weirdest look I'd ever seen. Though I've seen many weirder ones since. It was like she couldn't comprehend how her little girl wasn't the mirror image of herself. Like she'd done something wrong, even as a kid I could sense the frustration in her dying to come out. I've always had a knack for that in people, I suppose that's what makes me such a good psychiatrist. My mother continued to close the door and I initially thought she was mad at me and was going to leave me in there as punishment until she opened the front door on the driver's side in front of me and climbed into the seat. Closing the door and fastening her own seatbelt she looked back at me in the rear view mirror and continued on making me see she was right.

"Just stick to it honey, you'll learn to like it." She said bluntly and turned her key in the ignition. I couldn't believe what I was hearing and I was on the verge of tears. I hated gymnastics – of course I eventually learned to love it so I guess I am kind of grateful for that. However, I was a 5 year old girl being forced into something I didn't like so naturally I was upset and when little kids get upset, they cry. I felt my cheeks become flushed as I fought the tears back, I gulped at the lump in my throat silently as I replied.

"No." I stated, almost shouting it at her in determination that she wouldn't make me do this. Just as the car started edging forward she slammed on the brakes and her head shot up to look at me in the rear view mirror again. Her eyes burned through me, I know now that I've pretty much inherited that look from her whenever I get angry. I've been told this by various relatives whenever I see them, which must be once in a blue moon.

"You're not quitting young lady, we don't have quitters in this family." She tried to keep her voice calm but even at 5 I knew when she wasn't kidding around. I fought back the tears again and stayed brave but said nothing to her.

"Do we?" She egged me on but I didn't give into her demands for an answer. I looked back at her with my big baby blues, attempting the puppy dog sympathy look but it didn't work.

"No, we don't. So you're going back there and you'll learn to love it just like mommy did when she was a little girl." As the car edged forward I looked out the window and saw the little girls coming out of ballet in their pink tutu's and little jackets, their supportive mothers and fathers holding their hands as they walked them to their respectful cars for the journey home. The classes all took place in the dance & gymnastics school on the upper east side of Gotham, seeing the pretty ballerina girls added insult to injury to me at that moment. I knew then that as long as I did gymnastics there that I'd always be the one looking at them and longing to join them but never being able to. I looked back down at my leotard which was a horrifying red and purple full body number. I felt like a baby, like I was wearing those all in one pj's or something and I didn't want to, I wanted to feel like a big girl and wear a pretty tutu. As we left the parking lot I couldn't contain myself any longer.

"I wanna be a ballerina." I told my mother, my voice was small and defeated but I wanted her to know how upset I was about the whole thing and how badly I wanted it. I wanted her to make a promise that I could be what I wanted to be and have it be a promise that she'd keep for a change. I needed to hear a 'yes' from her that gave me more than just false hope. She pretended to ignore me for a couple of seconds as she drove the car but it was obviously a delayed reaction as she thought about something to say back so she could win the argument. She'd had a lot of experience in winning arguments, it was her job. Let's face it, being 5 years old and having a discussion with a successful lawyer didn't exactly give me the upper hand especially when the lawyer was also my mother. She looked back up at me in the rear view mirror as we stopped at a set of lights and carried on winning.

"We've already talked about the ballerina thing sweetie. You're doing gymnastics just like mommy did when she was your age. This is the last I want to hear of it, got that?" She firmly told me. I hung my head, I would've said it was in shame but it was really because I was feeling sorry for myself. I wanted pity and knew I couldn't get it, not from her anyway. I doubted my father would've felt any different about it, I remembered the last 'discussion' about taking ballet, how my father did nothing to support me as usual, needless to say if I could've given him another middle name to join his own, it would have been 'welcome'.**

"Right, now let's go home to daddy now shall we? We can tell him all about your big day!" My mother concluded and we didn't say another word all the way home. I noticed her glazed over look in the rear view mirror all the way back, at the time I thought she was just concentrating really hard on driving because I was too young to understand the complexities of human nature. However, looking back on it I realise that she was mulling over where she'd went wrong with me already. I wouldn't be so cynical about my parents like this but if you lived with them, you'd understand. My mother was the perfectionist and my father didn't really give a shit as long as I did well and my mother was happy. So as a 5 year old girl who hated her class and was being forced into continuing them, you can guess that I _really_ couldn't wait to get home to daddy and tell him about my 'big day!'.

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_* The reference of childbirth is from 'Batman Beyond: Return of the Joker'. I remembered Harley's line from when she and Joker tell Batman about their 'adopted' son, thought it fitted in quite well :]_

_** Reference to BTAS episode 'Harley & Ivy' in which Poison Ivy remarks that if Harley had a middle name it would be 'Welcome'. Thought it was a good reference as I liked the idea of Harley saying it about someone else :]_

_Anyway, even though Harley doesn't open up to people, I wanted to do this as an insight as to what it would be like if she was to a psychiatrist such as herself or a normal person at a bar kind of thing. Maybe even to Pamela Isley or someone close? Though she does open up to her, she doesn't tell her EVERYTHING. Just thought I'd say that before anyone points out that she's revealing all when I've written her as a secretive person because I do see the blinding fault in that! :P_

_I wonder what Mr. J would think about all this? I'm sure he'd love to hear it but neither of them know of each other's existence as of yet so that's not really an issue to delve into I don't think :P_

_Hope you liked it and hope I get reviews, HINT HINT! ;]_


	2. Loneliness & Love

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _Just so everyone knows Harleen's recollection of events isn't in chronological order. I wanted to make this so it was stream of consciousness so it's not a biographical thing about her life – though she is a fictional character of course so it's completely made up – duh! :P Just so everyone knows :]_

_Also I want to thank everyone that reviewed the first chapter so much and I'm really glad you liked it. Your praise was very encouraging & with that said here's Chapter 2 which will have more about Harleen and Edward's relationship so I hope you all enjoy it as much as the last, if not more! :]_

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_"You could be my unintended, choice to live my life extended  
You could be the one I'll always love  
You could be the one who listens to my deepest inquisitions  
You could be the one I'll always love." **- 'Unintended' by Muse**_

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**_**Loneliness & Love**

I lived on my own for a long time in New York so of course I'm no stranger to loneliness. I know how it is heading home alone on a Friday night knowing that there's nothing to look forward to other than some warm clothes and a comfy bed. I know the feeling of when hoping for a good book and a phone call from an old friend seems like too much to ask for. I know what it's like to walk into an empty apartment and turn on the TV just so it feels like there's someone there. When I think about these things, it makes me even more thankful that I've found Edward. Although I pride myself on being an independent woman, I doubt I could've carried on living like that without my self esteem suffering greatly from it.

The truth is that I love having someone to come home to. The second night Edward was officially living in my apartment is one of my fondest memories. The night before that; the first night he'd moved in, we'd had our first real fight. I remember it all started from a disagreement on what pet we should get together while we were talking about what changes we should make now that we were living together. I remember Edward wanted a cat but I wanted a dog because I'd always loved them. The disagreement quickly spiralled out of control and turned into a heated argument in which we pointed out quite painfully what we didn't like about each other. All the ugly repressed thoughts we had surfaced that night and needless to say, we didn't talk to each other after I stormed out the living room into the bedroom. By then we both knew that things appeared to be going badly already. Edward slept on the couch that night and that really surprised me. I was expecting him to leave the apartment without a word but he stayed. He had no reason to stay after some of the harsh things that were fired between us, especially on my part. But he did.

The next morning was the second day of me and Edward living together and I thought for sure that it would be the last when I woke up and remembered the argument from the night before. I hoped it was just a bad dream but I knew it wasn't. When I finally emerged from the room that was supposed to now be 'our bedroom' I saw him sleeping on the couch. However I resisted the urge to wake him up and went on my way to work. I remember feeling guilty throughout the day about what I'd said to Edward. What I'd said about his obsessive little tendencies bothering me, how he had to know everything and how he got all flustered when he couldn't figure things out, even something as simple as a puzzle. This usually resulted in him taking it out on me by not talking to me for the rest of the night, like a spoiled child who couldn't get his way. The more I thought about it the more I realised that yes, it did bother me a lot but despite that I still loved him all the same, if anything for some odd reason it made me love him even more. In a way it made me know he was different from other guys, which can only ever be a good thing.

It was the second night that changed my life forever. The second night is the one I'll always remember. I remember walking up to mine and Edward's apartment after work. I concluded at the time that I would have to continue calling _my_ apartment after what had happened the night before. I thought for sure that all I had to look forward to up in that empty shell of a place was some comfy clothes and a bed that would have been warm if I'd had Edward to share it with. I remember thinking it was over for good, that he would never have forgiven me for what I'd said to him. To be fair, he'd said things to me that were unfair too but nowhere near as bad as what I'd said. I think it was because although he was angry, he really didn't want to hurt my feelings but I was pretty relentless in my attack on his obsessive behaviour. I remember I even said he needed help and I realised how hurtful that must have been. Coming from his girlfriend psychiatrist, I'm sure it wouldn't have come as much comfort to him.

When I reached the door of the apartment I dreaded what was behind it. I didn't want the empty life I had again, not after having Edward. Everything in me was convinced there was nothing there for me on the other side of the door, everything within me was telling me he was gone and that he wasn't coming back. My fear of losing him and being alone had consumed me completely and I could hardly bear it. Nevertheless I took in a deep breath and unlocked the door. Pushing it open I realised my fears may have come true as there was no one in sight, there were no lights on and the apartment was silent. I walked in and closed the door slowly behind me, switching on the light and forcing myself to turn back around and look at the empty space. As I turned around and saw the empty apartment I noticed Edwards' boxes weren't there from the night before and that's when I caved in. My knees buckled and I slid to the floor in a heap and before I knew it, I was sobbing uncontrollably which was completely overwhelming and out of character for me to say the least. I'd always thought myself as a strong person who didn't upset easily but the sight of Edwards' things being gone as well as him was just too much for me.

I couldn't hear anything through my wild sobs. I was actually crying the way a baby would as I was practically wailing my heart out. I buried my head into my knees as I held them with my arms as though I was protecting myself from something. I realise now that this was completely irrational behaviour and that it may have been rich in me saying that Edward was the one that needed help when there I was blubbering like a baby on the floor of my empty apartment. I know now that I have no psychological problems as I haven't acted in such a way since but this was very bizarre to me even as it was happening. For some reason, I just couldn't help it.

That's when I heard a voice that sounded all too familiar but appeared to be distant as my loud sobs drowned it out. I looked up as I swore I'd heard my name. My vision had become blurred by tears as I still sat there crying. I just about made out a tallish figure which is when my sobbing became a little more controlled.

"Harley?" the voice was clearer now and I knew that it was Edward. He was still there and I felt relief wash over me as I tried to compose myself and wiped the tears from my eyes with the sleeve of my jacket. Edward had stayed which I couldn't have been happier about. With my vision returned from wiping my eyes, I saw the look of guilt on Edward's face as he approached me and knelt down next to me. He unhooked my arms from my knees and pulled me into an embrace. Now I'm not one for mushiness but it was the most romantic thing I'd ever experienced. We held each other as I gripped onto him tightly, not wanting to him let go in case he disappeared.

"You're such a silly girl, do you know that?" Edward whispered in my ear as he moved one of his hands up to my head and stroked my hair. I heard him let out a little laugh and I did the same, my tears were washed away with laughter and just like that, we'd realised that the whole thing was pretty ridiculous. The argument, my fears and sobbing, especially the thing that started it all which was a disagreement about a pet of all things. It was all so silly, as Edward so rightly put it.

That was the moment that we'd discovered we loved each other no matter what. What's more is that we did so without even having to say it, realising it on our own made it much more meaningful because it was a milestone in our relationship that we'd reached together. We stayed up that night and avoided discussion; instead we lazed on the couch and watched some old movies, stuffing our faces with microwave popcorn. I still had my secretive ways and he still had his obsessive tendencies to know everything but we didn't mind because we were us again; Edward & Harleen, the odd couple that drove each other crazy but knew it was all part of what we signed up for when we took a leap of faith and decided to live together.

The third night I came home to Edward sitting on the couch with two German shepherd puppies. It appeared that Edward had forgotten all about the cat idea and he knew German shepherds were my favourite breed. That night we named them Bud & Lou after Buddy Holly & Louis Armstrong – our guilty pleasures that we bonded over when we first started dating so the names were perfect. This was when our life together really began and to this day whenever I look at Bud & Lou, I'm filled with an overwhelming sense of belonging. They're my babies, my family. Our family.

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_A short chapter I know but I'll make the next one much longer I promise! :]_

_Sorry if it was a little mushy for your liking – I did try to avoid it but when you're talking about 2 people that love each other then there's obviously going to be some sort of worship there I'm afraid! I like the idea of Edward & Harley though. I think they'd make a great couple if they were ever to be made into an item in future films, comics etc. I think they're pretty perfect for each other as far as their alter egos are concerned especially as I think the Riddler would pay much more attention to Harley Quinn than the Joker ever could. I think he'd definitely appreciate her a lot more but that's just because I don't think the Joker (especially TDK Joker) is capable of caring for anyone but himself and his own selfish agenda of tearing the world apart for his own enjoyment._

_Also I think he's much to obsessed with Batman to pay much attention to Harley anyway, not in a homosexual way either as I don't believe the Joker to be gay in anyway whatsoever. I have read that the reason Joker makes lewd comments that have a sexual nature to Batman on occasions is due to attempting to make him feel as uncomfortable as possible and I believe that to be completely true. The Joker does tend to go out his way to make Batman feel uncomfortable and ruin him as much as he possibly can for his own enjoyment. I also don't think Batman/Bruce Wayne is gay either, sorry but I just don't buy it :/_


	3. Nothing to Fear

**OVER 100 HITS SO FAR – SO HAPPY THAT PEOPLE ARE READING THIS BUT SOME MORE REVIEWS WOULD BE REALLY HELPFUL IF ANYONE HAS THE TIME, I'D GREATLY APPRECIATE IT :]**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _I have to admit that I'm getting carried away with writing this story but it's just because Harley is so much fun to write about, not to mention she's probably my favourite character in the Batman universe next to the Joker. Christopher & Jonathan Nolan and all those involved in making 'Batman Begins' & 'TDK' have just opened so many doors of interpretation to already existing Batman characters. There are people who may be tired of hearing it but Heath Ledger's performance has provided so much to work with the characters we all know and love from the Batman universe. Even the Scarecrow has provided so much to work with, Cillian Murphy is a brilliant actor and needless to say, I love him so much that he makes me wish I was Irish haha :] But because of these great performances (as well as Christian Bale as the good guy vigilante Batman – easily one of the greatest actors I've ever seen) the characters we all know from the comics & TV series/cartoons have so much more potential to become something darker and in some cases just pure evil. I'd love to know how the Nolan brothers would go about the Joker's back story if they were to do a movie about it. I have no doubt that it would most probably be awesome._

_Enough of my ramblings though! I'm just really appreciative of the possibilities the new films have brought to the franchise :]  
Enjoy Chapter 3!_

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_"Some people say that I sound strange  
They say that I'm not right  
But I find beauty in this world every single night." **- 'All Black' by Good Charlotte**_

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**_**Nothing to Fear**

With a mother as a lawyer and a psychologist as a father, since the age of 9 I've always been interested in contributing something to society. A desire to help others in need and as this developed, it turned into a fascination of the criminal mind. Why people who'd been labelled as 'bad' became that way and why seemingly 'good' people felt inclined to do bad things. It really gets me when you hear sayings like "they were born to be bad" because the truth is that nobody is born a bad person. It's kind of like the Jean Jacques Rousseau philosophy, every man is fundamentally born with good in their hearts, as a child they possess innocence in its purest form but it is society that turns their once good intentions on their head and strips them of their innocence, turning them into something labelled as a 'monster', someone who is feared by others because the good people of the world simply don't understand them. After all, it is human nature to fear what we do not understand but I've always considered myself almost sub-human because I've never really felt this.

Now of course I was born with the instinct of fearing things I wasn't familiar with but my father helped broaden my mind a great deal to the problems people had. He had a good friend that worked in Arkham Asylum named Dr. Elijah Crane who often came around for dinner with his wife Nancy and obnoxious son Jonathan who I always seemed to get stuck with due to him only being a year older than me – just my luck. I always hated when they came for dinner because whilst the adults had their 'grown up time' I knew I'd have to sit and talk to Jonathan who I thought was a weird little person even if he was older than me. I suppose he did intrigue me a little though, even then I suppose I was destined to be a psychiatrist because I always analysed things about him. Like the way he always had that smug look on his face as though he knew everything and the world owed him something, even then I knew it was overcompensating for the fact that he was so unsure of himself.

I was thirteen years old (soon to be fourteen) on this particular night on which my mother and father decided to go over to the Crane household for a late night dinner. Obviously a babysitter was out of the question as I remember my father insisting that I keep Jonathan company. He had some kind of obsession with me getting to know this strange boy who I didn't really care for. However it seemed that my mother was much more sinister in her intentions as I distinctly remember overhearing her say to my father before we left; "I'm sure we'll be hearing wedding bells in future with Harleen and Jonathan, they're just so perfect for each other don't you think?" – GAG. She followed it with a little giggle to suggest that she was joking but it still sickened me. That woman was unbearable. The thought of marrying Jonathan was a fate worse than death for me and marriage was definitely the furthest thing from my mind – for me boys were still made from slugs, snails and puppy dog tails. Maybe not that extreme but I was still a late bloomer to say the least. It was only typical that my mother was planning out my future for me already and as usual my father laughed along being the spineless doormat that he is when it came to his only child's options in life. Truth be told, he probably loved the idea.

The Cranes lived not too far away from us but we still took the car, after all you can never be too careful in Gotham. No matter where you are, being mugged or something much worse is always taken into consideration even before you step out the door. My mother made me dress up which I thought at the time was kind of sick after what I'd overheard her say. She made me wear this strange yellow summer dress that made me look like the Sun or something. I don't know whether she was trying to make me look stupid or whether she was trying to make me look nice for Jonathan – either way it would have been pretty cruel.

We pulled up in their driveway and it was a pretty average suburb house, very much like ours. Painted white with a couple of trees outside and some greenery, the grass was perfect and there were sprinklers that would go off unannounced which I thought was a pretty fun idea. I loved spontaneity. We didn't have the sprinklers in our garden; I'm not sure why we didn't but the novelty of them was refreshing. We reached the door and my father rang the doorbell. I'm pretty sure we waited no more than 2 seconds before the door flew open and there stood Nancy Crane. Nancy was the sort of person who was nice to everybody but she was also another person I never really took a liking to. Even at thirteen I thought she was false, there was just something about her demeanour that didn't sit right with me. I think it was the way she smiled constantly like some kind of Barbie doll, it was painted on and I could tell. Like I said, I think I was destined to be a psychiatrist. What I find ironic is how her husband was a psychiatrist for the criminally insane in Arkham and still didn't notice there was anything wrong with how she would behave – more like he _pretended_ not to notice. Nancy's over the top welcome actually sent a chill down my spine just because her voice became so shrill when she did it.

"Oh I'm so glad you could all come!" Nancy near enough screeched and I swear to God at the time the thought came into my mind that if the rest of the night would be like this then I would have definitely needed some kind of hearing aid by the end of it. I almost felt sorry for Jonathan but the feeling didn't last long as Nancy stepped aside and my mother practically pushed me into the house. This was swiftly followed by Nancy taking our coats and patronisingly saying to me in her best mother goose like voice.

"Jonathan's upstairs in his room sweetie, I doubt he'll be down in a while but do you wanna go up and see him?" Right then everything in me wanted to say "_no"_ in such a sarcastic way but I felt my mother nudge me and instead I chickened out and nodded in response. I was actually terrified of saying anything to Nancy in case I accidentally caused a conversation with her. I hated putting up with her falseness on a general come and go basis. I doubt I could have lasted a whole conversation with her. If given the choice between her and Jonathan I think he would have been the lesser of the two evils, at least he didn't go blatantly over the top but he was still a smug little bastard either way. Nancy told me where Jonathan's room was and surprise, surprise – it was in the back of the house. Now to be completely honest I didn't like the idea of wandering through the Crane household alone or being in a room with Jonathan in the dark depths of it alone. However I knew I couldn't turn back so I walked up the stairs and went on my way to Jonathan's room. The hall was pretty well lit and they didn't have bad taste considering they were a little strange. Though I did quite like Elijah to tell the truth – he was the only one I _did_ like. I liked how normal he was compared to who he had to live with and I think I kind of pitied him for it.

As I got closer I almost expected to hear music coming from the room that was at the end of the hallway upstairs but there was nothing. I edged closer to Jonathan's room, looking ridiculous in my bright yellow dress that I hated. When I got to the door I waited in dread for a little bit, I really didn't want to sit with this guy for the next few hours. However dinner time was worse with having to sit with our parents trying to make small talk with us to act like they were interested in what we had to say. When they gave up trying to look bothered our fathers would start discussing some work related matters. This coincided with our mothers bitching about numerous people whose names I can never remember. This was another reason for my disliking of Nancy Crane – two faced as well as being faker than a three dollar bill. I didn't respect my mother for the bitchiness either but at least she didn't over do it with the niceties like Nancy did. My mother was actually kind of a bitch to the people she didn't like – not on a rude level but the sneers and glares that came from her were noticeable, at least to me they were. However I had other things to worry about other than sitting with the grownups at that moment. I had to sit with Jonathan. God how I wished Pammy was there but she wasn't so I couldn't be saved.

"Who is it?" a defeated sounding voice asked from inside after I knocked on the door. It was definitely way too late to back down now.

"Um it's Harley, you know, Harleen? Me and my mom and dad are here for dinner so I thought I'd come up and say hi." I told him and I was a little nervous, like I said this kid was a weird little person. The door opened slightly and Jonathan's icy blues peeked from behind it. His eyes scanned over my dress and I could tell from the furrowed eyebrows that he was giving me a strange look. I thought this was really rude of him, even if I didn't want to be there I'd at least made the effort to look nice – even if I didn't want to do that either. However, for all he knew I could've been planning it for hours and really looking forward to seeing him.

"Hi," I said and I even gave him a nervous little wave. He was making me feel so uncomfortable at that moment, the way he stood there and said nothing. I really didn't get what this weird kid's problem was. Every time I saw him he made me feel awkward, I'm not sure whether he did this on purpose or whether it was just him being himself but I suppose he wanted me to try and figure that out. He appeared to be the type of person that would do that – very odd.

"I suppose you'd better come in then," he said then his eyes left the gap in the door before it opened a little wider. I stepped into his room with a little caution. I'd never been in a boy's room before then. Looking back on it I'm surprised my parents didn't object to it but it was Jonathan after all. I remember his room had an odd smell to it, it smelled like some kind of chemical substance like nail polish remover but I didn't think it would have been that...unless there was something Jonathan wasn't telling his parents. It's kind of funny thinking about Jonathan as a woman; I'd imagine he'd be one of those tight ass women who were stick thin and looked as though they'd had Botox when in reality they were just that up their own ass that their faces were naturally devoid of all emotion.

I took in the surroundings of his room which had some pretty odd things in it. One thing I remember vividly was the fact that he had some kind of chemistry set which at the time rang alarm bells that he was definitely not a 'normal' kid. Though I already knew this, 'normal' kids didn't take interest in chemistry and smart things like that. 'Normal' kids played football and tried out for the cheerleading squad. However, I did kind of like the oddness of it, it showed he was smart and different from the 'oh so popular' guys in school. I also knew that this display of intellect couldn't have played in his favour as being different couldn't have been easy for him, being smart didn't exactly earn you any cool points in school. If it weren't for my gymnastics keeping the heat off me, I'm sure I would've been subject to that feeling all too well. I think gymnastics did save me from being a complete outcast, it made me appear more 'normal' than I would've if I'd chosen the 'geek' path. God I hate that word but kids are cruel, I always knew that. I've kind of resented myself for being in the middle, not being able to make that full commitment to one side of the coin or the other as far as school was concerned. I was great at both academia and physical activities but I chose not to be popular. At least I stuck to my morals in that sense.

There was a computer in Jonathan's room that he had no problems with sitting in front of and ignoring my presence completely. Somehow I could imagine that this was how it would have been like to live with him but as a teenager I understood ignoring parents and cutting myself off from the world. However I supposed Jonathan did this a lot more than most kids and I did feel something shift inside of me because of this, I genuinely felt for the guy. He was older than me and looking back on it there was something not quite right. I can tell now that he was unhappy with his life. Jonathan found it necessary to lock himself up in his room for hours on end just to escape the reality that was his parents and those popular kids at school that just wouldn't give him a break. With a mother like Nancy I wasn't surprised but I suspected his parents were a lot like mine (at least my mother anyway) – pushy and persistent. I took a seat on his bed without permission as there was nowhere else to sit and I was sure he wouldn't mind. He didn't either, he was too caught up in whatever he was looking at on the computer which I didn't care to take a look at. I was more interested in what was in his room.

"So, have you been doing some experiments with this?" I asked in an attempt to make conversation and motioned towards the chemistry set. Not that I really wanted a conversation with this guy but I guess it beat sitting in silence. Maybe I could find something a little more 'normal' about him if I tried? Some kind of common ground between us and then maybe we'd get along better. I figured if our parents got along – or at least appeared to get along – then surely we could do the same? It would've definitely made my teen years a lot more bearable.

"Conducting," he said as he turned his face toward me and gave me a demeaning look like he was better than me in some way just because I wasn't using 'correct' terminology.

"I've been conducting some experiments," he concluded and I wondered whether this correction was really necessary but I decided to ignore it. I think I'd pretty much made up my mind that he was an ass by then anyway.

"Oh, well have you made anything cool?" I thought there was no harm in asking even if I wasn't particularly interested.

"Not really, just some basic compounds. It's nothing you'd be interested in anyway." It was funny how he hit the nail right on the head but I was still a little offended by what he meant by saying that. I guessed he was trying to assume I was stupid or something but I suppose I was a little back then. Not so much stupid but I was pretty naïve.

"How do you know?" I was determined to prove I wasn't an idiot. Lying about being interested seemed the only way to go about that. Looking back on it now, it probably made me seem even more of an idiot because in all honesty I was being a hypocrite.

"I've yet to meet a girl that's actually interested in things that matter." There was something kind of sad in how that came out. There was a distinct twinge of loneliness in his voice as though he had nothing in common with anybody.

"Like?" I wanted him to elaborate on it a little because I honestly wanted to know what he meant.

"Science, the human mind, you know – things that make a difference." He insisted. Then I couldn't help but wonder whether that were true. Though at the time with me being 13 I obviously did take an interest in things that mattered however I didn't want to tell Jonathan about my interest in the criminal mind. Though it actually would have been a good source of common ground I suppose considering we both became doctors of Psychology. I just didn't want to be seen as strange with my odd fascination of criminals, I actually thought it was a little odd myself. Thirteen year old girls should be interested in wanting to hang out at the mall with their friends and passing notes in class to boys, not how the minds of psychopathic killers and rapists worked.

"Well what if I am interested?" I plainly put it; I didn't want to let on that I was different even if he was different too. Though it sounds shallow to say it and I would never think this now, the truth was that I didn't want to be like him. I didn't want to be weird, an outcast. Even though I didn't want to be popular, I was scared it would get out to everyone at school and then there was Pammy of course but I knew she wouldn't mind. Still, I felt I had some kind of reputation to uphold and thinking about that now really sickens me. There I was convincing myself that Jonathan was the ass when really it was me. I guess I deserved the blunt treatment I got from him back then, thinking about it I suppose Jonathan contributed so much to me becoming the person I am today. What's funny is that he didn't even know it.

"It's not a question of 'if', Science is fact." I wasn't sure what he meant by this. Although I knew Science is obviously based on statistics that are factual, I didn't get what relevance this had to what we were talking about. I guessed the odd fumes in Jonathan's room had gone to his head. Speaking of which, I'm surprised that the fumes didn't seep into the rest of the house. I'm also surprised that they didn't cause any long term psychological problems for him. Maybe they did? I can't really know for sure but it did explain the odd behaviour.

"Alriiight," I said, leaving what he said open to interpretation in case I took it the wrong way and made myself look even more stupid in front of him. There was an awkward silence and Jonathan proceeded to ignore me again by typing away on his computer. He was really the World of Warcraft type but I doubt he would've wasted his time on playing games, he was probably writing a paper or doing some form of work. He appeared to be glued to the screen so I quickly became bored and my eyes began to wander around the room again. That's when I noticed a small wooden box in the corner of the room. Naturally curiosity got the better of me so I walked over to see what was in it I looked behind me at Jonathan who was still oblivious as to what I was doing and continued to slowly open up the wooden box. There were numerous small jars filled with different coloured liquids inside it so I got excited wondering what they were. I noticed a small jar of some kind of red substance, I can't remember what it was called but I do remember I liked it because of the colour. It looked like some kind of magic potion so I took the jar into my hands and turned around to him.

"Can we play around with this stuff and see what happens?" I asked and he turned to face me again from the other side of the room. His eyes shot open and he near enough ran over to me and took the thing out of my hands.

"No, don't touch that!" he practically yelled at me and he proceeded to put the jar back in the box very carefully.

"What is it, some kind of acid or something?" I asked, trying to act somewhat clever by showing him I knew there were different types of acid. Smooth. Real smooth; it was also something an idiot would say.

"No but it's dangerous." He told me and then began to mutter to himself how he needed to get a better cabinet or get a lock for the one he had, it was something along those lines anyway.

"Do your mom and dad know you've got this dangerous stuff in your room?" I asked him and the bemused look on his face just said it all but obviously Jonathan being the way he is, he just couldn't help himself from the sarcasm seeping out his mouth.

"Well neither of them have set foot in my room since I was twelve so what do you think?" That would have explained why they didn't know about Jonathan's little experiments but it shocked me that they never even bothered to go in. My mother was forever in and out of my room and I actually found myself becoming jealous of the amount of privacy Jonathan had. Even if he appeared to be lonely, I suppose loneliness has its advantages and what an advantage it was.

"Nope, I don't think so." I replied still trying my best to be polite even though his smarmy attitude was really getting annoying.

"Then you'd be right," he replied and gave me a slight smirk. If I were interested at the time I would've found this to be quite endearing but since I wasn't, I found it funny so I stifled a laugh.

"What's so funny?" he seemed kind of offended as his eyebrows furrowed again.

"That's the first time I've ever seen you smile." I told him and gave him a little smirk of my own to which he snorted. He evidently was offended and not the least bit impressed with me.

"Well you haven't known me that long." And just like that he brushed past me and sat back down at his computer. Typical.

"Where did you get all this stuff from anyway?" I actually wanted to know how a fourteen year old boy had got hold of all these things that could only really be found in a lab or in Science class.

"What stuff?" the way he said 'stuff' was belittling, it almost implied I was a baby. That's what I thought anyway but I was really pissed off that I was being nothing but nice to him and he was still being a complete ass to me in return.

"Y'know, the chemicals and tubes and stuff," I thought he'd pounce on me for saying 'stuff' again but he didn't. He just stared at me in contemplation as though he either didn't want to tell me where he got them from or he couldn't remember. Though I guessed it was the former. As I waited for an answer from him when suddenly – as though on cue – Nancy Crane's voice reverberated through the house and into Jonathan's room.

"Harleen, Jonathan! Dinner's ready!" I was disappointed in the abruptness and I hoped Jonathan would tell me before we left but he didn't. In fact, he darted out the room and didn't even look at me. I realised then that he must have stolen them from somewhere, I wanted to know where but I had too much heart to blackmail him into telling me by threatening to tell his parents. I knew how cruel parents could be, mine were evidence enough of it.

All the way through dinner we sat there and said nothing to each other. Jonathan seemed more on edge than usual, as though I was about to reveal his big secret about the chemicals in his room but I didn't. I've been a lot of things but never a snitch. When we'd finished Jonathan claimed he didn't feel well and went up into his room. I think he was pissed off with me and it irked me that I didn't know why because I'd done nothing wrong. It seemed my question earlier had opened up a can of worms and he didn't like it one bit. At least I knew to stay away from the subject for a long time. Upon Jonathan 'retiring' to the safety of his room – possibly to hide his stash of Chemicals and test tubes – I had the pleasure of having to sit with the parents for the remainder of the night as they sat there and criticised wealthy socialites, even then I knew it was out of jealousy. I mean, who were those people really hurting at the end of the day? Nothing they did affected them so what did bitching about them really matter? It was just a huge waste of time to me and I even fell asleep and didn't wake up till my mother shook me awake. I doubt they even realised I was asleep till then.

After that night I saw Jonathan on odd occasions due to the workload at Arkham becoming heavier for Elijah Crane as the city churned out more and more people in need of mental help. Every time I saw Jonathan was even more awkward than before. Although he never said it, I think he was always appreciative that I never told on him to his parents. It was only later on in college that he and I would really get along. We had both changed so much by then – at least I had changed a lot anyway, Jonathan was pretty much the same as always but a lot more bearable. However we'd not seen each other for a long time but we still remembered each other. I remember when we first met up in college by accident; we were in the library and bumped into each other, noticing we were in the same section. Of course I spoke to him first and once he found out I was majoring in Psychology he actually started talking to me like a normal person. Like I was one of his kind and at that moment I didn't know why I was so bothered about being like him when I was younger. It was actually kind of nice; it felt like I belonged to some kind of secret group or something. Needless to say, after that we saw a lot more of each other and became good friends. Pammy not so much but she'd always had a problem with guys, from what I've heard I guess her father didn't help with that but I'll get to that later.

What Jonathan and I had that was different was the ability to communicate on an intellectual level with each other. He began telling me I was wasting my time with gymnastics, insisting it was for air headed cheerleader wannabes. He hated those kinds of girls but then they always rejected him so I suppose it came as no surprise that he hated me resembling them. Since he was around me so often I guess he wanted so much not to start hating the one girl who actually thought anything of him. Though I'd like to think me, Pammy and Jonathan were like 3 peas in a pod, the truth was that Pammy couldn't stand him and maybe at times she felt as though he was taking me away from her a little on account of her majoring in Biochemistry instead of Psychology like Jonathan and I. I can understand how she felt that division there as me and Jonathan would discuss various experiments and theories whilst Pammy sat there and read through her books. However the assumption of preferential treatment she may have felt was completely out of the question, I always knew this was a silly thing for her to think. Like I said before, my oldest and dearest friend is and always has been **Pamela Isley.**

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_The whole idea behind this chapter was that I thought it would be interesting to talk about Harleen's past with Jonathan Crane and the subject of fear seemed pretty good to tie into that.  
I actually named this chapter after an episode of the Batman Animated Series.  
I also tried to incorporate the original Harley we all know and love in this with the way she speaks when she's a teenager.  
I really hope you enjoyed it anyway – PLEASE GIVE ME REVIEWS!! :S_


	4. Harley & Isley

**I'M BEGGING YOU TO SHOW ME SOME LOVE & REVIEW! THEN MAYBE TAKE A LOOK AT MY OTHER STORIES WHILE YOU'RE AT IT? :] I'M STARTING TO GET CHEEKY I KNOW BUT IT'S FRUSTRATING HAVING NOTHING TO READ/WORK OFF AFTER WORKING HARD ON YOUR STORIES :[ ALL OF YOU OTHER FRUSTRATED WRITERS WILL KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS! HOWEVER THIS OBVIOUSLY DOESN'T INCLUDE THOSE WHO HAVE ALREADY REVIEWED & I DO APOLOGISE IF I'VE NOT REPLIED, I DO MEAN TO AND FORGET VERY OFTEN :S BUT THIS WILL CHANGE SO I CAN GUARANTEE YOU A REPLY IF YOU REVIEW BECAUSE I'LL JUST LOVE YOU FOREVER FOR BEING SO KIND :P  
ANYWAY, OVER 200 HITS NOW SO I WANT TO THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR READING, IT'S NICE TO KNOW MY WORK'S BEING READ ON SUCH A LARGE SCALE – 22 DIFFERENT COUNTRIES BETWEEN THEM ALL NOW, WOW! I'M SUPER HAPPY ABOUT IT AND I REALLY HOPE YOU'RE ALL ENJOYING MY LITTLE STORIES ^_^**

**On another note, I've been a hell of a long time updating this so I apologise a million times over! :S I have been busy with the others so I've been falling behind with this one :/  
ALSO I changed Harley's age from 3 to 4 in this because I thought it'd be a little more believable for her to remember something from this age :]**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _I don't have much to say about this apart from the name of the chapter is obviously a play on 'Harley & Ivy', I was going to put this as the title but they haven't discovered their alter egos yet so it wouldn't make much sense!  
Also, if I had to pick someone to play Pamela Isley it would have to be from a choice of Scarlett Johansson or Amy Adams – though I'd probably pick Scarlett because she has the right voice for Pammy and she's a really good actress so she could definitely pull it off.  
Anyway, let's get back to Dr. Quinzel!_

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_"_If I could I would do all of this again  
Travel back in time with you to where this all began  
We can hide inside ourselves and leave the world behind  
And make believe there's something left to find." – '__**Miles Apart' by Yellowcard**_

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**_**Harley & Isley**

You never forget the day you first meet the person who's destined to be your best friend for life. For some it's the very first day of school where everything's new and you find that special connection over something as small as liking the same potato chips. For others it's getting unbelievably drunk at a party one night and doing something crazy with a stranger whom you never lose touch with afterwards. There are so many ways that we could meet this special person but what I've found to be heartbreaking is that there are people who never find this and being a psychiatrist makes it inevitable to come across.

I always try to offer something that could be considered as friendship to my patients, though I've never been so stupid as to overlook the possible danger that can attach itself to this. I've never broken the boundaries of the patient/doctor relationship to make it something more. It's completely unethical. However I have received much success by providing my patients somebody that could actually be believable as a friend. They then feel they can confide in me which makes it much easier to offer the right treatment for them. Albeit it, this strategy doesn't always work but that's the chance you take in this profession. I know the whole thing sounds like a twisted plan to manipulate the mentally ill but it's far from it. I have no intention of using this information against them so why would I wish to do such a thing? I know my methods are a little unconventional but it's my job to help these people and unlike other psychiatrists I've met, I'm willing to go the distance to do it well.

Pammy has never agreed to the amount of involvement I put into my work. Though I love her to death, I have to admit that it's kind of hypocritical of her to say this. Now Jonathan was always one to take his work seriously which is only typical of his nature but if anybody's the definition of workaholic, it would have to be Pammy. The day I first met her was enough to prove to me that she was the little perfectionist. It wasn't necessarily under normal circumstances that we met and funnily enough I have my mother to thank for it. It was actually under circumstances much more personal than I could have realised at that age that we met.

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I was 4 years old and my mother had been hired by a woman named Rosalie Evelyn Isley – more affectionately referred to as Rose – to file a law suit of statutory rape against her husband Christopher Isley. I obviously wasn't told this at the time as it would have been far too complex for me to comprehend at such an age. However I remember that my mother and Mrs. Isley had become quite friendly with one another. Apparently when my mother learned of Mrs. Isley having a daughter the same age as me – who I figured was only brought up in conversation due to her possessing my mother's name as her middle one*. My mother naturally couldn't resist setting a play date for us that would take place in her office to keep this little girl of Mrs. Isley's out of the way as apparently she was proving to be quite the distraction in the workplace.

The bottom line was that Mrs. Isley didn't wish to leave her little girl with her alleged 'perverted' husband. The truth is that Christopher Isley wasn't Pammy's real father, though when speaking of her father this is the one I refer to. However she told me he wasn't many times as we were growing up and there's no doubt in my mind that this constant reminder was due to pent up aggression. The truth is that Pammy never knew who her biological father was and to my knowledge, still doesn't know. However this doesn't surprise me because her mother probably didn't know either. I know this sounds extremely disrespectful but I think it's safe to say that Rosalie Isley would never lose out on admirers of the opposite sex. The auburn hair, the sterling green eyes, the flawless complexion, she was so beautiful and this shows more vividly now through Pammy who, much to her dismay, looks just like her.

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The day I met little Miss Isley was a Saturday and on this day I was supposed to go to the zoo with my mother and father. It's what I'd asked for anyway but of course they didn't take me. My father had used that special word 'yes' so of course I shouldn't have expected to go but this was before I realised what the word really meant. So that morning I hurried into the kitchen for my breakfast in my tiger striped PJ's as fast as my little legs could go. I loved tigers because of my cuddly toy tiger Joey, so obviously those PJ's were my favourite ones. I was greeted by my mother's bright white face mask which I found to be creepy no matter how many times I'd seen it. I thought it made her look like a clown* and not a very funny one at that. Maybe this was because I knew it was still her beneath it.

My mother smiled at me with her painted white face as she took some milk out of the refrigerator to make up some cereal for me. My father was sitting at the table eating some toast and scanning over the morning paper. He'd tell me some stories from it from time to time that he thought I'd enjoy and I did. I'm not sure why he did this but part of me believes that he did it because he wanted me to grow up being aware of the world and my surroundings. Maybe he thought I'd grow up to be more intelligent because of this? Who knows for sure? However I did grow weary of him telling me the news as I got older due to the fact that I came to learn at least half of it is fabricated.

I climbed onto the chair next to him and took a seat as I waited impatiently for my cereal. It appeared that on this particular day there was nothing for my father to report to me as he didn't even acknowledge my presence at the table. I didn't really care about this because I was excited to go on our little trip out. I wanted to see the tigers because they were my favourite. I kept imagining what they'd be doing when I saw them, I pictured them in a huge field, running and rolling about on the grass because they were my favourite things to do. As I got lost in my little day dream, my mother fixed up my cereal and brought it over to me. She placed it on the table and took a seat opposite me, taking a sip from her cup of coffee she had sitting there.

"Are you not going to touch your cereal sweetie?" my mother asked and I snapped out of the little world of my own. She was unusually chipper that morning but I just thought it was because she was excited to go to the zoo like I was, it seemed to make sense. However I knew I couldn't spend all morning on breakfast or I'd miss the tigers so I took the spoon in my hand and looked over at my father briefly who continued to flick the pages of his newspaper. Ignoring me appeared to come naturally to him, even when I was looking right at him. I ignored it in return and took a mouth full of my cereal; I think it was Rice Krispies** but I forget. Not that it's important either way. I just remember that I enjoyed the feeling of it crackling in my mouth; I found it interesting because it was so different from other foods. I liked it.

"Are you looking forward to today?" my mother asked me and I nodded enthusiastically. I couldn't wait to see the tigers. She smiled again and I was genuinely happy at this, it wasn't often I saw my mother smiling. It was nice to see she was capable of it. I chewed and swallowed my mouthful of Rice Krispies after letting them crackle away for a while before I spoke again.

"We're gonna see the tigers!" I told her and giggled a little as I shuffled in my chair in contentment. I put another spoonful of cereal in my mouth and let them crackle away. My mother's face changed but I didn't really take this to mean anything.

"What are you talking about honey?" she asked me and I thought she was just being silly. I swallowed another mouthful of cereal and giggled again.

"Daddy said we're gonna go see tigers today!" I was still excited and still didn't catch on that my mother knew nothing about this little outing. My mother immediately looked at my father who pretended not to notice her.

"Charlie, did you tell our daughter you were taking her to the zoo today?" my mother wasn't amused in the slightest and my father could tell as he lowered his newspaper to look at her immediately when he heard. Though he'd actually been listening all along, it's like I said before – no backbone whatsoever.

"No I didn't say that," the little liar. I couldn't believe what I was hearing and I felt as though my dreams had been shattered. Why did he lie like that? Why wasn't he taking me to the zoo to see the tigers? Why couldn't he just grow a pair? – Though I didn't think this at the time of course but his lack of backbone speaks volumes.

"Honey, we're not going to the zoo today. You're coming out with mommy on a play date while daddy stays here to do some work." She told me and I felt like crying. I really wanted to see those tigers.

"But I wanna see the tigers." I told her and fought back the tears, she'd only shout at me or ignore me if I cried anyway. She didn't want to deal with a hysterical toddler even at the best of times.

"Well we can see the tigers another time, finish your cereal and then we'll get you dressed." She told me and I was so angry at my father for being an asshole about the whole thing. I understand he had work to do but why not just say it instead of getting a little girl's hopes up like that? And why lie about it to your wife? He was the worst person in the world to me right then, the backstabber.

"No, I wanna see the tigers! Tell her daddy, you said I could," I near enough shouted at him and he appeared to be indifferent to how I felt. Apparently what my mother wanted was more important.

"I'm with your mother on this one sweetie. I'll take you to see them another time." He replied and buried his head under the metaphorical sand by lifting his paper back up to cover his face. He didn't want to look at how upset he was because it would've reminded him that he caused it. I was sick of him ignoring me and pretending he didn't say things that he did. It confused me because I didn't understand why he was doing this. Now I wouldn't be making such a big deal out of this but it was important to me at the time because I was still fairly new to the world so seeing things I hadn't seen before meant a lot.

"That's not fair!" I told him but he didn't look at me. He didn't care as long as my mother was happy which ironically she wasn't because she was busy being annoyed with me.

"Look missy, you're coming with me today and that's final." Her annoyance was beginning to show as I could hear it in her voice.

"I don't wanna," I told her and I left my spoon in my cereal as I continued to fold my arms in protest. I wasn't going down without a fight. Unfortunately my mother knew how to fight back even harder, after all like I said before; it was her job to win arguments and she was damn good at it.

"Well that's just the way it is, you'll always have to do things in life you don't want to do. That's just reality, now stop being a pain and finish your breakfast." She gave me a stern look so I shut up and carried on eating my cereal, I didn't wait for it to crackle in my mouth, there didn't seem to be a point anymore. It's surprising how straight forward she was with me at such a young age but I'd like to think it made me tougher. Maybe that's why she did it? I was about to have a day that wasn't at the zoo with somebody I didn't even know, it just didn't sound like any fun to me at all. After that I got dressed, my mother insisted that I wear my overalls that were too long for me because I was so short for my age, I always have been but I suppose this made it a lot easier for when I started my gymnastics later on – though I really didn't want to do that at first either. My mother refused to buy me smaller clothes. I guess she didn't want to think of her only child as being somewhat 'abnormal'.

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My mother had planned for us to meet in funhouse type place with ball pits and padded climbing frames. There was a little cafe situated next to the playing area inside for the mothers to sit and keep an eye on their kids so this was my mother's port of call. She took me straight there for some fresh orange juice when we entered, though I thought the milkshakes looked really good. Of course I wanted one but I think what she said in reply when I asked was that she didn't want me to have diabetes when I was older. I didn't know what this meant, I guessed it was some form of the 'sniffles' but it didn't sound too good either way. As we sat in silence – because let's face it, what did we really have to say to each other? – My mother kept checking her watch. We were supposed to meet the Isley's at 11:30 but they were running a little late. I think she was actually concerned, something I've not seen often when it comes to her. She really did care about another human being besides herself. However I think the only reason she wanted this play date was because she wanted an excuse to hang out with a client she'd made friends with while she was off the clock. It would be 'unprofessional' otherwise, like she even needed to answer to anybody, she was one of the best. Effectively being the best in her law firm permitted a 'get out of jail free' card for any 'lack of professionalism' but she was still determined to prove something by not using it, what this was I don't know.

After another 15 minutes of awkward silence, I watched the other kids play away in the ball pit. I got lost in my thoughts about the tigers again, which appeared to be a distant dream when my mother suddenly jumped up out of her seat and it startled me as the table shifted swiftly. I looked back to her and saw her waving like she was the same age as I was. I thought she looked silly so I tried not to laugh, she was wearing gym gear; sweat pants and a hooded sweatshirt; even though she wasn't going to be getting up off her ass apart from the occasional trip to the restroom and when we finally made our way back to the car later on. I remember being relieved she wasn't wearing her stupid face mask anymore; otherwise I would've had a crazy clown woman* for a mother. Sometimes I wish she were, even if she creeped me out, at least I'd have an excuse to laugh at her.

I looked over to the people who were entering, two redheads; one tall one and one small one. They were dead ringers for each other and I was amazed because I'd never seen a mother and daughter look so alike before. In reality all I would've had to have done was look in the mirror with my mother standing next to me to see this but I didn't think of connecting those dots at that age. She was mommy, she was mean and I didn't want to be there. The little girl was wearing white jeans with a little green shirt that had flowers on it. Her mother was wearing a short summer dress with sandals and she was beautiful. She made my mother look like a hobo though to be fair, my mother was wearing sweats. It makes me laugh now because I realise how manly she must have felt next to her for not dressing up.

The red headed woman waved at my mother with a warm smile on her face as they came closer. She dragged the little girl along with her other hand who seemed reluctant about the whole thing, so we were pretty much in the same boat. My mother hugged the woman when she arrived at our table as me and the little girl stared at each other in observation. I think we were silently assessing whether we would get along or not.

"Rose it's so good to see you!" my mother told the red headed woman, I liked her name, it was like a flower and it was very pretty. They pulled away from their embrace and the red headed woman took a seat at the table, gesturing for her little girl to do the same. My mother sat down again and gripped her cup of coffee that she'd been mulling over for the past 15 minutes and taking a sip.

"I can't tell you how good it is to see you when it's not about business Lil." I didn't know what she meant at the time but I was still contemplating whether or not I liked the little girl and I have no doubt that she was thinking the same of me as she eventually took a seat. The two adult's chit chatted for a little while about nothing I found interesting before the woman who I now knew as Rose turned to me and smiled.

"Oh aren't you precious with those big blue eyes and little golden curls! So you're the little angel I've heard so much about!" she told me and my mother smiled at this. I don't know what she'd been saying about me to Rose but she must have said it in the thought it would reflect on her. I was too shocked to say anything in return so my mother spoke for me.

"That's my little Harleen," she told her and she appeared to be beaming with pride. She was a completely different person around Rose. In fact when I looked at her it felt was like I was looking at somebody I didn't know, even at the age of 4 I could tell the difference. It was strange but I found it quite fascinating at the same time. My mother changed around this lady and I wanted to know why but I didn't bother to ask as she turned her attention to the little red headed girl.

"And you must be little Pamela, I've heard a lot about you! Your mommy loves you very much you know." It was really weird for my mother to say this to her. I guess it was her way of reassuring her considering what was going on with her mother and father. I remember thinking her name was quite strange because it sounded like a grown up one and we were only little. However little Pamela looked at a loss for words and I don't blame her, I wouldn't have known what to say to that at 4 years old either.

"Why don't you girls go and play? I'm sure it'll be lots of fun!" Rose told us as she started gesturing for little Pamela to go away and my mother did the same to me.

"Go ahead Harley, go play with Pamela." She told me and we looked at each other reluctantly. I should have been looking at some tigers right now but I was being forced to play with somebody I didn't know. We eventually stood up and walked over to the play area together. Though this was more like shuffling to me because of my oversized overalls but coincidentally this broke the long awkward silence between us.

"How come your pants are so big?" the little red head girl asked me while she tried to stifle a giggle. It wasn't in a malicious way at all, more out of genuine curiosity. I was noticeably smaller than her so it was no surprise that her clothes that must have been the same size fit her perfectly.

"I dunno," I told her and giggled after I shrugged my shoulders, I found it quite funny because I did feel a little silly. Also, I genuinely had no idea at the time why my clothes were so big. I felt my cheeks warm up and she giggled too as we reached the ball pit. We took off our shoes that were the typical Velcro strap type sneakers. Hers were white with green checked flowers; mine were white with purple glittery stripes running along the side. Purple was my favourite colour and I guessed that green was hers. In our little white socks we climbed over the padded steps and jumped into the ball pit. There was a boy sitting on his own that we thought nothing of, he just sat there staring into the pit. It was a little strange but I guessed he was lonely so I went over to him and little Pamela watched me. I think she was a bit cautious of him to tell the truth.**

The boy was about our age, maybe a year or so older. His blonde hair was quite long and at first glance I actually thought he was a girl. He had big brown eyes and if we were both older I probably would have had a crush on him. He had that surfer look with his little cargo shorts and blue tee that would have been irresistible if it carried on into adulthood, I'd say I usually go for the intelligent type but my taste _is_ pretty varied. Either way he looked pretty lost so I felt sorry for him.

"Hey, you wanna play with us?" I asked him and I looked over to little Pamela who didn't look too thrilled about my inviting the boy to play. I looked back at him and he looked at me with a puzzled look on his face. In a strange way he actually looked as though he was going to cry.

"A – Alright," he stuttered and I was pleased with this. I signalled for little Pamela to come over and I suddenly felt a little more confident.

"Come on Red, we're gonna play." I told her, I only decided to call her it on a whim because of her red hair obviously but I liked it a lot and little did I know this would be the first time I ever called the girl who would become my best friend by that nickname. The initial look on her face was a weary one and I ignored it, I don't know whether it was because of the boy still or whether it was because she didn't like the nickname but since I've called her it many times since, I suppose it was the boy. I crouched down and wrapped my arms around a few of the multi coloured balls and threw them up in the air to break the ice. The balls didn't fly up far before they came crashing down and I started giggling, I found it really fun and the boy smiled and decided to pick up one of them to start a ball fight. And he did. He threw the ball at me and I threw one back at him. We started giggling and then I realised that we were leaving poor Red out so I shouted her again.

"Red, catch!" and I threw a ball at her but it flew right past. She laughed at me missing and then picked one up to throw at me but the boy beat her to it and a ball came flying at my head. It hit me right on top and he must've thrown it pretty hard because it bounced off and I remember it actually hurt.

"OW!" I shouted and rubbed my head, I could feel the tears welling up and Red's face changed instantly. She stopped laughing and threw the ball right at the kid full force but he ducked. He was so fast, it was almost like he was used to things getting thrown at him.

"Hey, not so hard stupid!" he shouted at Red who was furious. Looking back on it now it was quite sweet considering I'd only just met her that day.

"I'm not stupid, you're stupid!" she yelled right back and the kid got all bent out of shape about it. I stood there and watched as I rubbed my head and swallowed back the tears. That was one thing I never liked to do, cry. I always saw a kind of weakness in it even from a very young age. I know now that this isn't 'normal' but it hasn't done me any damage so far anyway.

"I don't wanna play anymore, I hate you!" and with that the kid threw another ball at her which just about missed. I have to admit he was a pretty good aim but kind of a twisted brat at the same time. I can't even begin to imagine now what his parents were like. I sat down and carried on rubbing my head after he left.

"You stink!" I heard Red shout at him but he was already long gone. She trudged over and sat next to me looking concerned.

"Are you okay Harleen?" she asked, though she couldn't pronounce my name too well as she prolonged the double 'e' at the end.

"Yeah I'm okay now. Thanks Red," I told her and she smiled, seeming content. I'd made up my mind at that moment that I liked her and it made me forget about missing the tigers. Or maybe it was the hit to the head that made me do that? Either way, I was happy.

"Boys stink, we don't need him!" she told me and I thought this was hilarious so I laughed and laughed. I wish I could be that amused at something so simple now but it's true that life gets more complicated as you get older.

"Yeah!" I agreed and she joined in the laughter. The next hour or two we played about in the ball pit together, other kids came and went but we decided to keep to ourselves. What originally should have been something tedious had turned into something really special. We both knew from that day that we'd be best friends forever. She started calling me Harley, then Harls and Lee; I carried on calling her Red then Pammy and Pam. We became like sisters, I'd get myself into scrapes and Red would get me out. That boy was just the start of many years of me having bad luck with men and Red coming along to pick up the pieces. After that came the failed relationships, perverts following us both and guys being general jerks. Red fought them all off, she was a modern day Amazonian woman and she was truly inspirational to me. I have to admit that she is a raging feminist that does push it a little with her speeches about men but that's one of the things I love about her, one of her quirks. The quirks we find in life are what make it interesting*** I've always believed this.

It's quite funny when I think about all the things I initially didn't want to do that made such a huge impact on my life because in a way it almost makes me thankful that I listened to my mother – **almost**. Although she really gave me no choice in the matter, I guess venturing into something you don't prepare yourself for makes all the difference. You have no expectations so you don't set yourself up for anything and thinking about it now I guess that's a pretty good way to live. If gymnastics wasn't an example of this enough then my friendship with Pammy sets it in stone. After all, there's no doubt that we were two of a kind when we first met and we have been ever since. This is one of the very few things I'll be eternally grateful to my mother for.

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_* I wanted to use this as an example of how selfish Harleen considers her mother to be as little Pammy is only mentioned because of something that has to do with her._

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* Wanted to use a bit of irony here that Harleen finds clowns to be creepy when she falls in love with one and pretty much becomes one as her Harley Quinn persona takes effect later on in life._

_** Little reference to the 'Hush vol.2' graphic novel when Harley is in the opera and crashes it – she sings about Rice Krispies which is what tells Bruce there's something not quite right. I'M NOT ADVERTISING RICE KRISPIES & I DON'T WORK FOR KELLOGGS!!! O_O_

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* Irony again because Harley actually becomes a crazy clown woman ;P_

_** Little hint to Pammy's dislike of men later on :]_

_*** Reference to my Joker story 'The Man Who Laughs: Origins of The Joker', just to show they already have similarities ;]_

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I might have neglected this story a little bit but ideas keep coming to me & I've already got lots of dialogue down for my sequel to 'Shadow of the Bat'. Plus the Joker story got me a little side tracked :S  
I thought the middle name 'Evelyn' would be appropriate for Pamela's mother because of Eve being from the bible & the connection to the Garden of Eden – see the link to plants there? It's cheesy I know! :P  
I won't tell you whether that boy was the person who would someday become The Joker because I'd like to leave it open to interpretation. You can decide whether he is or not for your own entertainment if it's better for you that way :P  
BUT PLEASE REVIEW? :] I do try hard with these stories so it'd be nice to know who's enjoying it and such, even a simple one line review would be appreciated! I don't ask for mucho :P_


	5. Leaving Home: Part 1

**This is the longest chapter I've ever written for any of my stories so I've took the liberty of splitting it in two parts!  
I hope you enjoy it & please feel free to point out any mistakes I've made, it'd be very much appreciated :]  
Also, the reason I never stated what happened to Pammy's step dad in the last chapter is because Harleen may be talking about it in greater detail later. Also, I'm thinking of writing an origins story for Pamela Isley too so I may leave her to tell you what happened.**

***Begs for reviews* - right so for every review I get for ANY of my stories I will review one of your own stories capiche? Awesomes! :P**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_Thought I'd make things a little more interesting here :] ALSO I'm sure I've made an error on one or two of my stories by stating that Jonathan Crane or Harleen received a PhD when in fact in the Psychological field it is actually an MD that is attained. Psychology is medicine based due to a lot of treatments being biomedical – duh! I really don't understand why I didn't connect the two, I'm a big idiot :S So I do apologise and I will try to find & fix this._

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_"_Now we can follow you back home but we won't.  
Is this what you had waited for? Just to be alone?  
It takes some time to let you go and it shows." – '__**All We Know' by Paramore**_

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**Leaving Home: Part 1**

Moving to New York was a huge step for me in more ways than one. I was due to move in with my aunt and uncle for a few weeks before my new job kicked up and I started getting some money in to fund toward getting my own place. Not only did it require me moving to a different state with my new career but it also forced the truth to come out. Pammy didn't want me to go but she understood that I wanted a better life. It was becoming more apparent as I got older that Gotham wasn't the best place to live. Being a child growing up there, you get told about the possible dangers of it from a young age but you never quite understand the severity of it until you're old enough to realise just how crime ridden it is. Though I was interested in criminality, I didn't want to live around it and risk being a victim myself. It was when I got to my later years of High School that I started to question my mother and father about why they didn't simply move away but they constantly told me it wasn't an option. Why this was, I don't know. It's not that I wanted to move away at the time, not unless I could take Pammy with me anyway. It was just that I thought there was something much more to life than staying in Gotham forever. I wanted a fresh slate, new people, new experiences. New York seemed to be the perfect place to go.

My mother and father held a leaving 'party' for my big move. When I say party I don't mean a bouncing off the walls, things getting broken, drunken dancing party with your friends. I mean a dull gathering that would consist of my _parents' _friends getting drunk and sitting around gushing about the meaning of life like they actually give a damn about it. They really couldn't care less, as long as they had their 4x4 cars and pretty white houses, the things that required intensive thinking didn't matter. Pammy's mother came with a date that I can't put a name or face to so naturally Pammy didn't wish to be around her, she found it embarrassing. Like I said before, Rosalie Isley would never lose out on admirers.

Jonathan's parents were there which was in fact the first time they'd been over to our family home in a while due to Elijah's workload. However despite them being there, Jonathan arrived alone to see me off. He had just freshly been hired to teach at Gotham University* so he didn't wish to make them aware of his presence. All because they would pretend to be proud of him and this appeared to be something he just couldn't stomach but knowing the falseness of Nancy Crane, I understood why. However this meant the 'party' was divided into two. While me, Pammy and Jonathan hid out in the garden, my mother and father entertained _their_ friends inside. Now this was pretty silly considering we were all adults but as long as we were out of dodge of the parents then it didn't really matter where we were. After all, I've experienced many times that parents and alcohol don't mix well.**

I remember Jonathan was pretty jittery all night. Though he always appeared to be on edge, I could tell by the way he would wander off every now and then to take 'phone calls' that something wasn't quite right. At first I thought that he was acting strangely due to his parents being there but it wasn't till me and Pammy decided to sit down the bottom of the garden on the grass together after we'd had a few drinks that I found out this wasn't the reason. It must have been the tenth time that Jonathan had disappeared to take another 'call' and in all honesty I was beginning to get worried. It seemed the perfect time for Pammy to see her window of opportunity and tell me what she apparently knew all along.

"You know, he's pretty bummed about you leaving." She told me as we sat there on the grass with our empty glasses that had newly been drained of yet another vodka and coke – not too classy I know but we'd become accustomed to it after being students for so long. After all, it was a pretty cheap way to have fun during spring break. Now I knew that Jonathan would probably miss me but I seriously doubted he would let it surface like this. Not in such a public place, after all displaying emotions never was his thing.

"How do you know? Johnny never tells you anything," I told her. I never usually referred to Jonathan as 'Johnny' unless I was drunk or tipsy and in this case I was the latter. Either way, deep down it made me cringe. However Red noticed this and smiled as she shook her head knowingly.

"He doesn't need to tell me Harl, as much as he irritates me I can tell when something's bothering him." I didn't quite understand why she was so bothered with telling me this. I knew that Pammy had never taken a shine to Jonathan but she never really approved of any men that were in my life so I was used to it. However it wasn't this that puzzled me about her wanting to tell me the real reason, what confused me was why she wanted to do Jonathan the favour by telling me. I figured from this that a small part of her had accepted him in some way; they were around each other enough on a weekly basis for a good 5 years. The truth is that with all things considered concerning the previous men in her life, the unfortunate thing is that her faulty relationship with Jonathan was probably the longest one she'd ever had with someone of the opposite sex. However I failed to see how she could possibly have an objective view on what was the matter with him but I definitely knew there was something wrong.

"Well don't think I haven't noticed there's something not quite right but it's probably just because his mom's here Pammy. The woman's a pain in the ass." I turned the blame back on Nancy again because it seemed like a pretty valid point. I refused to believe that Jonathan would show any genuine sadness about me leaving. I wouldn't have been as bothered if I were stone cold sober but the alcohol had eliminated the practicality of rational thought. However on this occasion, Red wasn't willing to accept the explanation being Nancy.

"Now as much of a pain in the ass she may be, that's definitely not the reason honey. I've seen the way he looks at you. I've noticed that hang dog expression he's had painted on his face all night like some sad little puppy dog. I think he might be in love with you Harley, I mean he has always liked you." I couldn't believe what I was hearing, there's no doubt that if I'd had drink in my mouth, that would've been one of those moments where I'd spit it out everywhere. Though I did think Pammy was being a little presumptuous, looking back on some of Jonathan's behaviour now it makes perfect sense. The truth is that Jonathan held an air of superiority around the guys I dated. I remember the way he always made little condescending remarks to them that they never quite picked up on and constantly told me I could do better. Not once did I think he could have intended this to mean him and at the time I thought was that all the condescending comments were just Jonathan being himself. After all, he always did like to show his intellect in a less than modest way.

"What?" I asked astounded, however Red did nothing but smirk at the fact I was so oblivious to what was really going on. I'd always prided myself as being the intuitive type so it was unusual for me to not realise something like this sooner. With this taken into consideration added to the alcohol, naturally I refused to believe it was true.

"Don't be silly Red. It's never been like that. He just sees me as a really good friend that's all." I told her and her eyebrows shot up in what appeared to be mock surprise. Even while tipsy I could tell she thought I was lying through my teeth about it.

"Is that a fact?" she asked sarcastically and rolled her eyes. She really couldn't believe I didn't see it.

"Mm-hmm!" I told her as I rolled my head back to look up at the starry sky. I've learned since that Gotham looks so much more peaceful from above; it almost tricks you into believing it's just like anywhere else when in reality this couldn't be further from the truth. There was no doubt in my mind, even after hearing all this from Pammy about Jonathan, that leaving Gotham was a good idea. I turned to look at Pam again when she continued.

"Oh come on Harley, open your eyes a little. I thought you were supposed to be the intuitive type? You're a qualified Psychiatrist for God's sake! It's been staring you right in the face since we were at University." She had a point but I could feel myself getting even more frustrated by it. Though Pammy had been drinking, she could handle the effects of alcohol a lot better than I've ever been able to. This added to fact I knew she'd never lie to me was forcing my head to raise all kinds of questions. Was Jonathan in love with me? Did he really like me that way for all these years? The thought of it seemed incomprehensible to me. I just didn't want to believe it.

"What are you talking about?" I asked and she shook her head in disbelief before looking at me dead in the eye. There have been very few people I've been comfortable with doing this and Pammy is one of those few.

"Don't tell me you can't remember what he was like about you and that Guy Kopski." That was a reminder I didn't need. Guy Kopski is one of the worst mistakes I've ever made but I won't go into detail why right now. He just _is_. Jonathan was roommates with him in college; in fact he was the one that introduced us. But why would he introduce me to somebody he obviously knew was no good for me? Did he do it deliberately because he knew Guy would hurt me and that I'd need comforting from somebody? Did he want that somebody to be him? It was a twisted idea but believable. At least it would be if it were someone other than Jonathan.

"He wasn't acting any different Pammy," I stated and a smirk quickly formed on her face with a sudden twinkle in her eye as though she'd just figured something out. Like there was some kind of long winded answer she'd been looking for and suddenly discovered.

"You know what? I think the reason you didn't notice is because you chose not to. In my _diagnosis_ sweetie, I think you're suffering from a bad case of denial." She said as though it were a matter of fact. And maybe it was. I didn't want to believe it after all, that's when I realised that Pammy was a lot more observant than I gave her credit for.

"What?" I asked, still not wanting to believe what she was saying even though there was that distinct voice inside of me that told me she was right. The truth was that I didn't want Jonathan to be in love with me, let alone think of me in such a way. In fact I was terrified at the thought of it. He was my friend and I was leaving for New York in the morning to start a new life. There was nothing good that could have possibly come from this but I sat there and let Red explain what she was thinking to me.

"Well it's pretty easy to understand." She started and I prepared myself for the worst as she sighed as though in contemplation of how to word it just right before she continued.

"The thing is that you don't want one of your closest friends to be attracted to you because you know it'd be hard to shut him out if you were to start a relationship with him. The truth is that you're scared about sharing everything you are with somebody else." There was the bombshell. Why was she saying this to me? Was it out of anger because I was leaving Gotham and therefore leaving her behind? I should have known why but I didn't and it frustrated me to no end that I was unable to figure it out. I was the goddamn psychiatrist and my botanist best friend was giving me a psychiatric evaluation. Where was the sense in that?

"That's not true," I told her but I refused to let her see how truly annoyed I was with her by biting my lip so I wouldn't grind my teeth. Looking back I don't understand why this annoyed me the way it did. I suppose the alcohol brought out the worst in me. I suppose it's a good thing that I've never been a big drinker.

"Isn't it?" she asked me with that underlay of sarcasm to her voice again. She must have been able to tell it was getting to me but she persisted, I think it amused her in a way. Her secretive best friend was unfurling; she'd finally figured her out.

"No it's not," I simply told her. It was getting old to me, really old.

"Well if it isn't then maybe you can explain why you constantly get involved with guys that you know you can't have a long term relationship with?" She asked and this really hit a nerve. I knew she was always honest about these guys but I wasn't expecting all this. It was my big send off and although my parents pretty much threw it for themselves, I wanted my best friends to give me a fond farewell and a good night. I wanted a good memory to look back on when I went away to my new life. This dissection wasn't exactly what I would have called something good to remember. With all things considered though, at least it was something I've remembered well.

"Oh and who are all these guys exactly?" I asked her though I knew full well who was included on that long list of pathetic wastes of life. If you could see who I'd dated you'd see what I mean. Pam was the one that made me realise how terrible they really were after each relationship ended. It was part of her job description as best friend for life. A job she's always tended to with the best intentions for me.

"Well, Guy Kopski was one of them." She carried on and reminded me yet again but she couldn't have been more wrong. Don't misunderstand me; if there's one person I can't stand, it's Guy Kopski. However this was because he was the one guy I could really see myself with. I thought he was different from the others before I was shocked into the realisation of how much of a pig he really was. If anything, he was worse than all the others. But like I said, I'll explain why later. However, this is when I lost control of my temper and flipped out on Red. I feel bad about it now because she was only trying to prove a point. The second mention of Guy Kopski was the straw that broke the camel's back, to repeat an old saying.

"Guy broke up with me, not the other way around!" I snapped through clenched teeth but she didn't appear to be phased by this in the slightest which I didn't like. For some reason I felt the sudden need to intimidate her. Like I said before, alcohol brings out the worst in me.

"It doesn't make a difference who ended it honey. I know how instinctive you are, you always follow your gut feeling about somebody whenever you meet them and I know you're _always_ right about it. I'm telling you now, there's no way you would've felt deep down that it actually had a chance of lasting." From a more objective point of view she would have been right but I don't think she was. I just didn't have the heart to say anything in case I went back on my word which is one thing I've never liked doing. That and there was a small part of my mind telling me it was true. After I didn't reply she carried on talking. Evidently she was starting to feel bad about what she'd just said.

"Look, I've always told you that you don't need these guys Harley. They're losers but I know you. And I know that you don't want to be alone forever; you want to find somebody that'll stay with you no matter what. But if you're this scared of having a lasting relationship then what chance is there of ever finding someone who'd actually be willing to go the distance?" I didn't want to listen to this. She was right. What hope could I have had for happiness if I couldn't let people in? What the hell was wrong with me?

"I mean, it took a hell of a lot of hard work on my part to figure all that out about you and I've known you near enough all my life. You're a tough nut to crack Harl; you just need to open up a little." She told me and I didn't want to say anything in return about it. I didn't want to tell her she was right. I didn't want to think about all this the night before I went away. So I decided to make light of it. After all, I just wanted a good night, was that so much to ask for?

"Well at least I'll be tough enough for the city that never sleeps." I told her and she laughed slightly at this. I didn't want all this crashing down on me, that's what it felt like. The alcohol had made every feeling intensify. Looking back now maybe I _was_ a little drunker than I first thought.

"Yeah, you're gonna do alright girl. Hell; anywhere's better than here," she said and it was true. Gotham had become a hotbed for criminal activity and dirty little secrets. The depression had caused things to spiral out of control and it was still going on beneath the city. I'd seen it before; I'd been down to the lower levels. Not a lot of people knew it but I'd seen how bad things were down there. As much as the criminal mind fascinates me, there's no way in hell I would have wanted to be there any longer than I did. Not a chance. It seems weird to people that I'd leave somewhere like Gotham because considering my profession; it should have been the one place I wanted to be. But like I said before, I didn't want to live inside of what I do. Escapism when you return home from a hard day's work is something that's really needed. In Gotham something like this is impossible.

"Yeah but no matter how bad it gets, it'll always be home." I told Pam and it was true. Gotham would always be my home which made it almost heartbreaking to see what it was being reduced to. I noticed Pammy resisting the urge to laugh as a huge smile formed on her face, I suppose the alcohol had got to her a little bit more than she was letting on. However as I was on the borderline of being drunk I didn't really notice it so much at the time. The possibility of her telling me all this because of being under the influence didn't even occur to me either because like I said, she could handle it a lot better than I could.

"Unfortunately," she replied and that's when she started giggling away and I joined her. The thing about Red is that she has one of those contagious laughs, when you hear it you can't help but join in. I've always loved little things like that. Whenever I was down and out all I'd have to hear is Pammy's laugh and I'd perk right up. If I could describe it, it'd be like how I'd imagine the bride of Dracula to laugh from one of those cheesy horror movies. It was kind of throaty and deep but I've always thought it to be one of the funniest sounds I've ever heard.

"What am I gonna do without you Pammy?" I asked whilst we were both recovering from our, well let's face it, it was drunken laughter. Looking back up at the stars she exhaled deeply as though deep in thought, I could tell how much she didn't want me to go without her even saying a word. Her body language did all the talking. She turned back to me with a warm smile on her face.

"You'll never be _without_ me honey. All you need to do is pick up the phone." She told me and I could see her eyes welling up with tears as they shimmered in the moonlight more than they had been. I could feel my heart sink a little at this, though I can't tell how many times I've seen so many different people cry whilst working as a criminal psychiatrist, it still makes me uncomfortable to witness it. It physically pains me to see people break down, it always has. Knowing my leaving was what was causing Pam's unhappiness was killing me but I knew I had to do it.

"Still, it won't be the same." I told her and it really wouldn't. Pam had been my best friend since we were 4 years old. Throughout our childhood and college we'd been inseparable so of course I'd feel lost without her. A big new city, with new people and a new job in a questionably dangerous profession to top it all off; I was terrified. Kind of funny considering what I've put up with since but I suppose that's just life, you learn from your mistakes, you grow and you find out that the things you used to be afraid of don't really matter anymore.

"I know," she replied simply and we were quiet for a while after that. We laid down on the grass and stared in silence at the stars, quietly enjoying each other's company. Two best friends who knew they wouldn't see each other for a long time after this night. Two soul mates that were being driven apart by the lives we wanted to lead but we always knew we'd grow old together; nothing could stop that from happening. We were destined to be two old grannies sitting on an old porch reminiscing about all the crazy things they used to get up to every day and no matter how many times the stories were repeated they'd never lose their importance to us. Although I knew I was leaving, I knew I'd never lose her and that's all that really mattered.

I heard the side gate swing open and I knew right away it was Jonathan coming back from his so called 'phone call'. That's when I came to a realisation. Who would _he_ have if we drifted apart? Would it break his heart if I left? I needed to sort it out before I took off the next morning otherwise I knew I would have regretted it if I just up and left without confronting him about the whole thing. He didn't come over to me and Pammy; instead he sat down on the back porch and looked down at the ground as though he was worried about catching my attention. He evidently wanted a little time to himself but I wasn't going to let that happen.

* * *

_* A reference to 'The Dark Knight' novelisation as it states that Dr. Crane worked at Gotham University before being accepted into Arkham Asylum._

_** This is a reference to the first chapter of the story with the drunkenness of Harleen's dad when Edward comes over for Thanksgiving :]_

_Hmm, Harleen may be showing a bit of Harley Quinn here don't you think? Her aggressiveness and somewhat quirky attitude (obviously inspired by our original little Harley Quinn we all know and love so much!) that's brought out through her drinking too much hints to that greatly. I'm unsure whether I should write her like this if I do ever write her as Harley Quinn in future – which I probably will ;D Anyways, that's what I was hoping to achieve with her so I hope everyone noticed & again thanks for reading! :] Jonathan's obviously in the next chapter which will be up either later today or sometime tomorrow!_


	6. Leaving Home: Part 2

**OVER 330 HITS, THANK YOU SO MUCH! :D  
I APOLOGISE FOR NOT UPDATING SOONER BUT I DIDN'T FINISH THE CHAPTER OFF PROPERLY BEFORE LEAVING AND I JUST CAME BACK FROM NEW YORK ON MONDAY (FUNNILY ENOUGH CONCERNING THIS CHAPTER :P) SO I'VE BEEN SUPER TIRED AND JET LAGGED. ANYWAY, I'VE CAUGHT UP ON MY SLEEP AND I'VE PRETTY MUCH WRITTEN ALL THE DIALOGUE FOR CHAPTER 4 OF 'SHADOW OF THE BAT' NOW SO THOSE OF YOU FOLLOWING IT WILL BE PLEASED TO KNOW I'LL BE UPDATING IT REAL SOON :]**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** _This is continuous from the last chapter but I did want to break it up a little! Anyways, things are pretty interesting in this second part too, read and see my wonderful audience! ;]_

_

* * *

_"_See I thought love was black and white,  
That it was wrong or it was right.  
But you ain't leaving without a fight,  
And I think I am just as torn inside." – '__**Where I Stood' by Missy Higgins**_

_**

* * *

**_**Leaving Home: Part 2**

"I think I'd better go talk to Jonathan." I told Red and broke the silence as I sat back up. She stayed where she was with her eyes closed peacefully as though she didn't have a care in the world. The alcohol definitely was taking its toll.

"So it's not _Johnny_ now?" Pammy smirked, amusing herself but I couldn't help smiling even if she didn't see it, I could tell that was the response she wanted.

"Oh shush!" I told her and got up on my feet. I left my empty glass where it was on the grass, I wasn't planning on getting another drink after the talk. I'd had enough and I needed to be up early in the morning. Jonathan glanced up at me for a second before looking around almost nervously.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked as I took a seat next to him on the porch. I was really hoping Pammy wouldn't hear any of it but it was a fair distance from the porch to the bottom of the yard so as long as we weren't shouting then we would've been okay.

"Nothing really, just contemplating some things," he replied quietly and looked up to stare toward the bottom of the yard where Pammy lay on the grass being at one with nature. He had an uncertain look on his face and I knew he must have been wondering what he was going to do being stuck with Pammy. Would they even still talk to each other with me gone? They didn't exactly get along at the best of times; I often got told by Pammy that I was the only one holding the little 'group' together. Though I wouldn't really have called it a group of sorts. The way I saw it, there was me and Pammy, then me and Jonathan. We were divided from day one and continued to be. They were civil with each other but they only did it for my sake. Kind of funny considering how stubborn they are but that's what made the gesture that much more special. Was this what he was worrying about or was it what Pammy had told me? I needed to know.

"Care to tell me what _things_?" I leaned toward him and nudged him with my shoulder. He didn't necessarily enjoy close contact but I'd been drinking so the consideration concerning that went out the window. I realise that I was being unnecessarily flirty with him but he was a good looking guy after all and alcohol has the power to turn me into one of the flirtiest people you could ever meet. However he didn't appear to be phased by it. He could either tell how drunk I was or he really did like me that much. Either way I knew he could smell the vodka and coke on my breath.

"Oh it's nothing important, just some theories I've been working on." He replied, trying to give the excuse that it was work related which would have actually explained his 'phone calls' but he'd only just started his job at the University so I knew he wouldn't have been in the thick of it already. On second thought, I really wouldn't put it past him.

"Is there ever a time you _do_ stop thinking about work?" I replied and smiled at him, this is when he turned to me and smirked. Jonathan rarely genuinely smiled, it was always that wry smirk of his that he exposed often. Something like this expression is usually used by someone who either wants to hide something or who feels awkward and doesn't quite know what to say. I suppose in Jonathan this was often the latter however he had an almost nervous disposition which often made it difficult to know what he was thinking. Though I've observed many things about him throughout the time I've known him, I have also noticed that a lot of the time, he's difficult to get in the mind of. The way his face would usually consist of either a blank expression or that smirk that could have been read in various ways. I often found myself thinking that he'd ironically be the perfect criminal if he were to become one*. He could easily fool anybody with that look but I have to admit that I've taken quite a liking to it over the years. It seems inappropriate to say it considering he's my friend but I have to say it's quite endearing.

"Well, you know the saying, there's no rest for the wicked." He said slyly and then looked away again. I stifled a giggle; the saying was quite funny to me concerning Jonathan. Especially since the word 'wicked' for me has always been associated with something like the wicked witch from the Wizard of Oz**. I got the image in my head of Jonathan standing in front of a big cauldron with all those little chemicals he used to have wearing one of those big black pointy hats. I just couldn't resist a small laugh escaping me.

"Wicked? Is that how you're describing yourself now?" I asked him and even though I couldn't quite see his face at this point because he was leaning too far forward, I could tell that the blank expression had surfaced again. Typical Jonathan.

"It's just a figure of speech Harleen. You really shouldn't take it so seriously." He informed me and it was something I already knew, he always was good at stating the obvious.

"I know, I was joking," I replied bluntly but he ignored it.

"What time do you leave tomorrow?" he asked and I didn't see what difference this would have made but at least if we had a proper conversation I could possibly steer it toward what I wanted to know so I told him.

"Well I'll have to leave a little earlier than I thought. Probably around 5 o'clock, I need to pick up a few things from the store, a new toothbrush and things like that. I figured if I come home to visit then I can just keep the ones I've got here to use." It's safe to say that I had planned on coming back to Gotham often for visits to Pammy and Jonathan but this never really happened which I regret. I've visited Gotham a total of three times over the past 5 years; one of these times was of course that unforgettable Thanksgiving Day with my parents. The other two were spent with Pammy; Jonathan was always 'too busy'. About 2 years ago I'd heard of him losing his job at the University and getting his foot in the door at Arkham. The last I heard from Pammy, he was practically running the place, a pretty big achievement by any standards considering Arkham's importance to the city. However, I suppose his father's contribution to the place beforehand did play to his advantage.

"Hmm, it's typical of you to say that. You haven't even left yet and you're already thinking of visiting. If I were you I wouldn't come back at all." He smirked again and I wondered what he meant by this, the way he said it almost suggested he didn't want me to come back. The thought didn't pass me by that Jonathan could have been that bitter about me leaving that he didn't wish to see me again after I made the move to New York.

"What are you trying to say?" I asked him and his face didn't change at all the whole time he looked at me.

"I'm trying to say that if I had the choice of moving to New York, I wouldn't come back to Gotham for anything or **anybody**." He told me and I could understand why he'd say this but I really didn't consider that anything would have stopped me from visiting him and Pammy in Gotham.

"Why, did you think I was trying to get rid of you for good?" He asked with a hint of sarcasm and I took this to mean he wanted to have a joke with me – something I wasn't used to when it came to him so I played along, maybe a tad too much though.

"Well I wouldn't put it past you; I know how intimidated you are by me. This town ain't big enough for the both of us Johnny boy," I joked before giving an exaggerated a wink. However the smirk fell from his face and his eyebrows furrowed slightly, a rare occurrence with Jonathan concerning his facial expressions were always kind of limited. It sounds strange to say it but I actually felt honoured that I'd caused this look of confusion.

"Are you drunk?" he asked me and I shook my head slightly. I didn't want to overdo it again otherwise he'd know I was lying. For some reason I felt I could outsmart him; which with my intoxication would have made it ten times more difficult than it would have been if I were stone cold sober.

"No, I'm just," I paused to try and find a word as I looked away from his slightly perplexed gaze. What was the word I wanted to say? What would be convincing to tell him? And then it finally came out.

"Happy," I finalised and I looked back at him just in time to see him smirk and shake his head in quiet disapproval of my condition. He knew and there was no hiding that. Of course he did.

"As well as having had too much to drink." He said and impulsively my head told me to deny it again but I didn't bother. He could probably smell it on me which would have made it blindingly obvious.

"But I don't blame you for being happy; I would be too if I could leave here." He concluded before exhaling deeply. I never thought that Jonathan would have possessed these feelings of wanting to leave Gotham; though he would often complain about the state of the place but then would reverse this by saying it was the perfect place for his research. Looking back on it, in a way I think he was actually giving excuses for being too afraid to move out, after all he never stated why Gotham was the best place for whatever he was trying to achieve. It was odd but then again, I suppose that was Jonathan through and through.

"Then why don't you?" I asked him, though I knew he'd just been hired to work at Gotham University, surely that wasn't worth being unhappy over. However Jonathan didn't seem to quite comprehend this as the look of uncertainty still hadn't left his face.

"Hmm?" he replied as though he hadn't been listening when I knew full well that he was. It kind of annoyed me how he felt he had to hide everything from me, I wanted him to open up but then I suppose the same could be said about me. We're evidently too alike in that sense.

"If you hate it so much here then why don't you just leave? You're always complaining about it." I asked and he appeared to think about this for a minute before giving me his trademark smirk again.

"Was that an offer for me to join you _Miss._ Quinzel?" he asked and I wasn't sure how to take this because of course, it wasn't intended to be an invitation. This added to what Pammy had told me about his feelings for me made the whole thing that much more awkward. Did he actually want to come with me? And if so, was he suggesting he wanted to live with me? Whatever he meant by it I'm not sure but to this day I still struggle to figure out whether he was indeed joking with me or not but then Jonathan rarely ever joked about anything unless he was using unnecessarily harsh sarcasm. Now the thought occurs to me that the intoxication had clouded my ability to distinguish the sarcasm in his voice as there didn't appear to be any. Unsure of how to answer him, I ignored the question and corrected him instead.

"That's Dr. Quinzel," I told him and I guess I was being a little flirtatious but then Jonathan knew it was the drink making me behave in such a way. However he pretended to ignore this and I could tell her was attempting to mask a laugh when his smirk widened. Evidently he'd thought of something that amused him.

"I beg to differ, especially after reading over those dissertations of yours during college." He slyly remarked and I couldn't help but smile at this as I shook my head. I looked up at the stars again and the way they lit up the night sky was the most beautiful thing. I've always been a night person which I suppose is a positive thing when you grow up in Gotham. Darkness is something that's unavoidable in that city.

"You haven't seen the best of me yet Crane; I'll be making a real difference in the field of criminal psychoanalysis really soon. Just you wait and see."I told him as I continued to smile contently at the glittering stars above. Jonathan joined me in looking at the stars and it would have been romantic if there wasn't that undeniable feeling of awkwardness there after what Pammy had said.

"I somehow doubt that Harley," he replied and this time I could hear the sarcasm seeping out of him. It actually caught me off guard because Jonathan never called me Harley, ever. He preferred to call people by their birth names but then again, he was brought up this way by his pretentious mother Nancy so this really doesn't surprise me.

"So it's _Harley_ now? I thought you always hated that nickname." I turned to look at him and noticed that the smirk had disappeared from his face. He shrugged and appeared indifferent as though something had upset him.

"Well I don't see why I can't call you it now, it's not like I'll have to say it on a regular basis." And that was all I needed. There was a distinct bitterness in the way he said it, as though I'd betrayed him in some way. Though it did make me feel somewhat guilty at first, there was no doubt that nothing could make me change my mind about moving to New York. It was already made up by then.

"Besides, _Johnny_ isn't exactly a favourite of mine." He added, probably to avoid an uncomfortable silence once he realised that what he'd just said was a little out of order and I couldn't help but giggle at it. I always have found it funny that little things like that really get on his nerves.

"Alright, I take it back," I told him and he smirked slightly at me before looking back towards the stars. I always figured that Jonathan was a night person like me. His generally quiet nature told me this was true. At that moment for some reason the thought came to me what it would be like to be with Jonathan and in all honesty, I didn't think it'd be all that bad. After all, we had a lot in common intellectually and our personalities complimented each other in a strange way. Also sitting under the stars together combined with my drunken behaviour was enough to trigger these thoughts. As we sat in silence my mind began to cook up various scenarios of me and him being together. For some reason the image of me and him getting married entered my mind but this was probably due to me subconsciously remembering what my mother said about it all those years earlier. It's kind of eerie now that I think about that image but it is quite funny still, I was drunk after all. It was these images however that finally caused me to pluck up the courage to ask him what I wanted to ask. I figured I had nothing to lose either way. Not that this made it any less awkward of course.

"Jonathan, could I ask you something?" I began to which he turned to me in a suggestion to continue and I could instantly feel my cheeks warming up. The vodka really had gone to my head.

"I'm going to be straight with you. I just heard something and I want to know the truth about it." I told him and another achieved look of confusion grew on his face.

"Alright," he replied with a hint of concern behind his voice. I still think to this day that deep down he knew what I was about to ask him. He must have. He was too intuitive not to notice but he was playing oblivious just to be safe I suppose.

"Look um," I stumbled and felt myself growing more nervous by the second. I was beginning to wonder whether this was a good idea but it was too late to go back now. Any made up on the spot question would be too obvious for him to detect now.

"Right I don't know how to put this so I'll just come straight out and ask you." I told him and he smirked at how nervous I was, he knew I was afraid and he evidently loved every second of it. There was no doubt that he was definitely still that strange little boy at heart.

"Then go ahead," he replied coolly. He gave the impression that he was in control of the situation which he probably was to tell the truth.

"Okay, well...do you have feelings for me?" I spluttered out nervously and I became even more nervous when his eyebrows furrowed in what appeared to be a mixture between anger and bewilderment. Though he probably knew I was going to say it, now that I had it must have really come as a shock to him that I had done so.

"Excuse me?" he replied before sitting there in silence for a second or two and although it was only a short silence, it seemed to last a lifetime. This was just too awkward for words. I looked down at the top step of the porch that I was sitting on. Jonathan was sitting on the second now and exactly when this had happened I wasn't sure of but he had evidently moved away from me. I figured that despite his possible 'undying love for me' that he may still not want to be as close to me physically as he was when I took a seat next to him on the step. I really didn't get what the hell was wrong was this guy and as I thought about this I began to feel myself get frustrated. What did he want? What was his _damage_? – What can I say? I was drunk.

"Somebody told me you had feelings for me, apparently you have for a while now." I informed him and he wasn't amused by this in the slightest. He already knew who it was that told me this and this really irked him.

"You know how much I **hate** accusations Harleen and by the way, you don't need to protect her." He replied before turning away from me in evident disgust. I said nothing which he mistook as being through confusion. So he really wasn't as great at reading people as he thought he was. Mind you, even the best of us make mistakes in that sense from time to time.

"Don't play dumb with me. Acting naively doesn't make you any more attractive Harleen. You know who I'm talking about and I know she's the one that put that idea in your head." He carried on and I remained silent. I was furious with him now. I was tired of his rude behaviour. I was tired of his evident avoidance of simply answering the question. Why did he have to make things even more awkward than they already were by doing this? Then again, he always loved to create that awkwardness. It appeared to be something of a hobby of his. God knows I've experienced it enough over the years. With this stated, he still carried on talking.

"You know, maybe it's the best thing for you to be leaving Harleen. You don't need someone like that controlling every aspect of your life. Dependency on another human being is dangerous for ones mental health, you more than most people should know that." He concluded and looked back at me in what was evidently disappointment. What the hell was this guy's problem? I always knew him and Pammy didn't see eye to eye but he had no good reason for telling me to pretty much remove her from my life and this made me even more infuriated. How _**dare**_ he do such a thing? Like I'd ever get rid of the best friend I've ever had. In his _dreams_ maybe; then I realised it would suck big time to be with Jonathan. He would evidently want me to get rid of Pam and that was a huge no, no. It just wasn't going to happen. Ever. It makes me laugh now how much thought I was putting into this whole being with Jonathan thing. Like I really wanted to be with him in the first place; I didn't. Not one little bit.

"You know, Pammy's technically your friend too." I told him which _technically_ was true. He stared at me for a while before answering as though he was unsure about whether to say what was about to come out of his mouth next.

"Well, I think you're forgetting that technically isn't the same as actually. Pamela Isley's _technically_ my friend but you're **actually** my friend." He stated and I said nothing in return, I thought I'd let him carry on with this. What he didn't notice was that I was seething with anger beneath the surface.

"Pamela Isely only puts up with me for the sake of you. You seriously can't be thinking of telling me otherwise because in your current condition you'd make an even worse liar than you already are. After all I wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself in front of me now would I?" he asked rhetorically but this was what pushed me over the edge. This time I was going to reply.

"Alright, you know what? What the **hell** is your problem?" I asked with malice through gritted teeth. I didn't want to raise my voice in case Pammy came over to see what was going on.

"_My_ problem?" he asked and I knew this wasn't rhetorical as the growing anger in his voice was unmistakeable. What annoyed me about this was that he had absolutely nothing to be angry about. I was the one suffering a verbal attack, not him. All I did was ask a question but maybe that was what had initially hit a nerve with him? Nevertheless, I carried on.

"Yes _your_ problem, why do you have to be such an asshole about everything? You haven't even answered my question yet, you know all it takes is a simple yes or no Jonathan. And you know what? As far as what you just said about Pammy being bad for my mental health goes, I really don't think I asked for your opinion on that. I know that there's **nothing** wrong with me so stop trying to psychoanalyse everything and tell me there is." I told him and this was true. There was absolutely no reason for him to start trying to dissect what was wrong with my life and attempt to delve into my psyche but what I didn't realise was that this had unwillingly become an open invitation for him to delve even deeper.

"Well seeing as though you want to know truths, do you want to know one of the truths that I've discovered Harleen?" he began. The smugness in his voice was exuding as he smirked knowingly when he looked at me. He was really getting annoying.

"**What?** What is it?" I snapped through clenched teeth. I was pretty sure he loved this display of anger directed towards him. After all, anger was always something I never liked expressing so he must have felt excited to finally see me in action.

"The truth about you that I've known all these years is something you've just affirmed right there. That truth being that you know I can get into your head and that _scares_ you. You're so secretive because of the fear you have of somebody actually knowing who you really are. You're afraid of being too close to somebody because you think they'll abandon you." And there it was. He'd affectively just repeated what Pammy had told me just minutes earlier. Where they planning this as some kind of joke to pull on me before I left? No, Jonathan would never collaborate with Pammy on anything and he never was one for jokes.

"Tell me, does Isley know that about you? Or has she only just figured that out?" he asked and it was obvious from the stretched smirk that he was enjoying this all too well. How **dare** he? I shook my head in disbelief at this, what gave him the right? Did he want me to belong to him or something? Want me all to himself? What was his problem? He still hadn't told me the answer to my question.

"I can't believe you're actually saying all this like I belong to you or something, I'm **not** yours Jonathan." I told him and he shook his head slightly as he looked away from me again.

"I never insinuated that you were." He stated, still refusing to look at me which was when I realised he was looking over at Pam who was still in a world of her own.

"I'm right though aren't I? About Isley, about everything," he asked as he looked at her. There was no hint of admiration in his eyes toward her. In fact, there appeared to be nothing but disgust for inflicting this problematic question on him. I was fuming. He was being a complete ass over a stupid little question that he _still_ hadn't answered. I exhaled deeply trying to contain my anger and he noticed this.

"What?" he asked without even turning to look at me. So I decided to tell him exactly what was on my mind. No more beating around the bush.

"I'm leaving for New York tomorrow and instead of giving me a good night and a big send off, my two best friends feel the need to pull me apart and tell me who I am. Now I've always been close to Pammy but what the hell gives you the right? Is it because you're jealous of our friendship? Because I've never been that close to you? Or is it because you think you deserve your doctorate more than me? Because you got there first? Is that what it is? Tell me Jonathan." I told him firmly, like a mother addressing her child which made him remove his glasses and rub the bridge of his nose. Sighing, he finally turned around to look at me and I have to say, his eyes without those glasses were really beautiful. They twinkled as brightly as the stars did in the moonlight. I don't mean any of this in a romantic sense of course, that was just what came to my mind at the time.

"I think you've had a little too much to drink Harleen," he informed me as he looked up at me. I wondered whether he could actually see without those things on as they appeared to be so thick. I never did think to ask but there were other things on my mind at that moment.

"Cut it out and tell me the truth." I told him and I meant it whole heartedly. Though it was given that he had a point, I had had a little too much to drink. However, stating the obvious wasn't going to get him out of this and he suddenly realised this.

"Why do you want to know Harleen? Why is this so important to you? Is it because Isely said it? Because everything she says is gospel to you?" there was no hiding the fact that he was directing all of his anger towards Pammy. Then again, that was always something he did much too often.

"I know it's bothering you but it's not as though it would matter if I confirmed whether it was true or not. You're leaving tomorrow and I know you've got enough sense not to come back here so it wouldn't make a difference either way." And I took this to mean that it was true. He was masking it, badly. Lying never was one of Jonathan's strong points.*** But I was more shocked to think that he felt that way about me returning.

"Why wouldn't I come back? You and Pam are here and that's all the reason I need to come back." Of course I'd come back and I believed that with all my heart despite the state of the city. Sadly I didn't do this as much as I thought I would. Life always got in the way and I suppose this was the reason why Jonathan was always 'busy' as he must have been disappointed with me for going back on my word. Though he expected me to do this all along and thinking of it that way, I kind of don't blame him for not bothering with me anymore.

"Though I'd like to get carried away in that, we both know that this city is gradually getting worse. I know that's the real reason you're leaving. After all, who wants to be a psychiatrist for the criminally insane in a place where all the people who should be institutionalised are running rampant in the streets? Even the most privileged of people that live here aren't safe anymore.****" He was right. About everything – of course I didn't want to live in a crime ridden city. I wanted to be able to escape from my work when I needed to.

"Gotham's dying Harleen and it'll probably be a long time before somebody comes along to clean the mess we've created for ourselves.***** We're all waiting for it, I know I am. I'm waiting for it with bated breath." He told me but all he was doing was stating the obvious again. I already knew that Gotham was getting worse. I knew it was decaying from within but I also knew there'd always be that little beacon of hope that kept it chugging along. Someday, someone would indeed make a difference, like Jonathan said. However it was how that difference was achieved that concerned me. I knew it would eventually get to the point that it would take crime to beat crime. It would take some driving force to fight fire with fire so to speak.******

"That's a pretty bleak way to look at things." I told him and it was true. He was so negative about everything but I've always tried to be the optimistic type and needless to say, I still had faith in Gotham. However Jonathan didn't agree with my statement as he exhaled deeply before putting his glasses back on.

"It's not bleak, it's realistic. Let's face it; Gotham's now got the worst crime rate in the country. It's a breeding ground for desperation and _fear_." He told me and despite my intoxication I could tell this conversation was beginning to take a strange turn. The way he said the word 'fear' was rather odd. It was as though he'd been waiting to mention it, like the whole conversation had been building up to that one subject.

"_Fear?_" I questioned and he could tell that I was confused so he showed me that wry smirk of his again.

"Well it's quite relevant don't you think? The citizens, the people who steal to feed their families, even the police. They're all afraid of what could happen. They're scared; after all we're all afraid of something." And he was right again. It was no secret that the mob had already taken over the city. They'd been running it from the sidelines for years. Everybody in Gotham knew it but they refused to believe it was true. Not because they were in denial, but because they just didn't want to. Deep down they were afraid. Afraid of admitting that the city was no longer in the hands of decent people and that was the God honest truth.

"Well of course we're all afraid of something. It's basic human instinct." I told him and he was silent for a while as he turned up to look at the stars again. After a minute of eerie silence passed he sighed as though deep in thought about something and this intrigued me. What did he have on his mind?

"Tell me, what scares you the most Harleen?" he asked and I was dumbfounded. What kind of a question was that? Especially after him dissecting my apparent fears already but I thought about it for a while and went through a little list in my drunken mind – that was slowly beginning to sober up thanks to the cool night air. Clowns, I always thought they were a little creepy. I would never have considered it as being a fear though. Grasshoppers were kind of disgusting but again, it wasn't a fear. Being abandoned – **abandonment**. Jonathan had a point.

"A lot of things," I simply replied, I didn't want to tell him he was right. I'd never live that down. However he got the hint and decided not to press on any further.

"Point taken," he smirked and glanced at me with a mischievous look in his eyes. He could have been a real charmer if he worked a little harder at it. He definitely had potential to be popular with the ladies. He just didn't appear to want it all that much and was content enough to sit on the sidelines. The thought of him being gay did occur to me but I'd seen the way he would look at certain girls. The look of lust was unmistakeable but the truth was that Jonathan wasn't a lover or a fighter. He was a **thinker**. And it didn't seem to harm his career any, barring the fact he got fired from the University a couple of years later of course. He always had Arkham though. It was definitely his safety net.

"Listen, I don't want you to go away on a bad note so I apologise for my behaviour. I hope you accept it," this I could appreciate. This was Jonathan's way of telling me it was hard for him to see me go. He didn't want me to but I knew that already. Giving me this apology was something I needed to hear from him though. This affirmed it even more.

"I do," I told him and he seemed pretty content with this. There was another silence and then I realised I'd forgotten all about Pammy lying at the bottom of the garden. I squinted and looked over. I noticed her eyes were closed and it was either because she was sleeping or she was pretending to. When I turned my attention back to Jonathan I noticed that he was still staring at her too. Then I thought about everything he'd actually done for me, all the studies he'd introduced me to, all the jerks he'd told me to stay away from. In a way he was like the father I wished I had, he was a mentor to me as well as a friend. To be with him would be even more wrong than I initially thought it would be and parting from him after thinking everything over was a little overwhelming for me. I wanted him to know how much he meant to me and considering how things turned out, I'm glad that I did.

"You know Jonathan; you're always telling me things. Telling me to stop gymnastics, telling me to stay away from idiot guys, you've always been there to tell me things. I want to thank you for that. And you know what? It means a lot to me because I have to tell you, you sure do care a lot for someone who's afraid of showing it." I couldn't hide the fact that I'd studied him too. Of course I had, it's my profession to study the behaviour of others. That and my intuition wouldn't allow me not to. But I have to say that the look on his face was priceless. It was pure bewilderment and I couldn't help but stifle a laugh.

"Oh don't look so shocked _Mr._ Crane. Like you really thought I hadn't already put you under the microscope too. I have, _so_ many times." I exaggerated the 'Mr' on purpose just as he had the 'Miss' earlier which he found amusing and suppressed a laugh by raising a fist to his mouth and gently coughing. Very gentlemanly.

"Just out of curiosity, what exactly do you know about me that I haven't already told you?" and I could hear a hint of worry in his voice.

"Everything," the look of confusion was there again.

"And nothing," I added with a wink after a brief pause and he smiled at this. Genuinely smiled and it was a beautiful smile at that. It was then I decided that he needed to do this a lot more. I returned the look and we sat there looking at each other for a while. Running through our minds were the missed opportunities and even more words that would never be said. We both knew we could have made a pretty good couple if we were both slightly different. If we didn't have those fears of ours – but then we both knew it would never happen.

"HARLEY! Harleen darling, come and say hello to your Aunt Jem and Uncle Geoffrey!" The moment was interrupted by my mother's voice faintly screeching from inside. She didn't bother to venture out which was lucky for Jonathan as she would have definitely forced him to go inside and make the subject of us being a couple surface for everyone to witness this time. That and Nancy would pounce on him like a piece of fresh meat. I supposed she only did this with an audience around, she was definitely the type. After all, she did have mental health issues.

"I'd better go," I told him and he stood up, taking my hand to help me onto my feet. He must have thought I was much drunker than I actually was but then again, he was probably just making fun of me.

"Me too," he said as he helped me up and proceeded to step off the porch. Where did he have to suddenly rush off to? I wondered this to myself.

"Going to take another call?" I pried and gave him a little smirk which he expectedly returned.

"Something like that," he replied and I couldn't help but take this as his final goodbye. The way he said it as though his mind was elsewhere was proof enough of this.

"Ah, so I take it you're not planning on returning from this phone call of yours then?" I asked him to which he put his hands in his pockets and examined the ground beneath him before looking back up at me swiftly.

"Looks like it," he told me with no smirk this time. I couldn't help but wonder how hard he was actually taking it. It should have worried a little more really because he was making it pretty clear that he knew he'd never see me again.

"Well then," I started and he stood there looking anxious as I stood off the porch to stand next to him.

"I'll see you when I see you _Johnny_," I told him playfully and smiled but he didn't seem so amused this time.

"Hmm, good luck. And I don't just mean that for when you walk through that door in a few seconds." he replied, gesturing toward the door with a tilt of his head and I laughed slightly.

"Thanks," and then came one of the most awkward moments of my life. The forced hug, I didn't want to make him do it but the alcohol and my feelings took over my actions at that moment. I rushed in putting my arms around him and had to resist squeezing the poor guy within an inch of his life. I didn't feel his arms around me at first which I expected but after a couple of seconds I felt his hands on my shoulders, one of them patting me. It definitely wasn't what anyone would call an affectionate hug but if you knew Jonathan, it was. My mother's voice screeched for me again and it was definitely closer this time so I removed myself from Jonathan. It would have been fun trying to explain that after all. She would have locked me up in the house to stop me from going to New York and would have had the wedding planner out the very next day. We glanced at each other knowingly and I made my way back up the steps when I was stopped by his voice again.

"Oh and Harley," he started and I turned around. He called me Harley and this time it was through genuine caring. I was in shock so I took my hand off the door knob and turned around. He was still standing there, he hadn't moved an inch. He'd been watching me the whole time and I thought after that hug that he would've been out of there faster than I got through the back door.

"Hmm?" I simply replied, at a loss for words.

"Don't be a stranger," he smirked again and all I gave him in return was a smile and a nod. Then he walked around the side of the house and out of sight. Not daring to look back at me.

"I won't," I replied quietly to myself. He was gone. He didn't say goodbye to Pammy but then that was expected. So with that I walked into the house through the back door to reluctantly greet my aunt and uncle. Pammy stayed in the garden on the grass till I escaped the house once more to give me a tearful goodbye.

And that was the last time I ever saw Jonathan Crane.

* * *

_* Foreshadowing of Scarecrow, Harleen already sees his potential to become a criminal. I wanted to display her intelligence through her intuitive nature with this._

_** Wicked witch + Wizard of Oz = the Scarecrow – see the connection? ;D Haha I'm so cheesy :P_

_*** Reference to my 'Batman Origins: Jonathan Crane' in which Jonathan states the same thing about himself!_

_**** Reference to Thomas & Martha Wayne being murdered but obviously this was years before this event._

_***** Jonathan is hinting towards The League of Shadows in 'Batman Begins' but obviously he's not aware of them as of yet. Acting more of a foreshadowing for now :P_

_****** Reference to the Batman YEY! :D Foreshadowing of Mr. Dark Knight!_

_A lot of references I know but hey, I couldn't resist pointing them all out! :P  
__Also I will tell you that Jonathan moving down a step on the porch is there to symbolise that he's already beginning his decent into criminality. Harleen's leaving and he's feeling lost – aww poor Johnny :[ Just a subtle symbol there for ya! ;]  
Is everyone ready for more Eddie in the next chapter? I hope so!_


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